


Guardian Angel

by Aini_NuFire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean Winchester, Cas and Claire bonding, Case Fic, Castiel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Episode: s11e12 Don't You Forget About Me, Family Feels, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Humor, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Mythology - Freeform, Post-Episode s11e5 Thin Lizzie, Season/Series 11, episode AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire Novak chases monsters that aren’t there. Castiel buries himself in Netflix to avoid the ones inside. But he is Claire’s guardian as much as he is the Winchesters’, and can’t help but go to her aid when she calls them about a potential case. Of course nothing goes as planned, and sometimes even angels need someone to watch out for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For NightHaunter15 on ff.net, who requested a case fic with Cas and Claire bonding. Thanks to 29Pieces as always for beta reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. Some setup and lines from episode 11x12 "Don't You Forget About Me," but this story actually takes place after episode 11x5 "Thin Lizzie," so before Cas left the bunker to find Metatron.

 

Dean slammed the bunker door shut behind him and jogged down the steps, spurred by the tantalizing aroma of fat and grease oozing from his takeout bag. The burger inside was a work of genius, plain and simple, and he couldn't wait to dig in.

Sam was sitting at one of the study room tables, staring intently at his laptop screen.

"Did you catch us a case?" Dean asked. Though, if he had, Dean was eating his food first.

Sam glanced up, then back to whatever he was looking at. "Uh, no." His brow puckered incredulously. "Get this. Some…some dude took a picture of a weasel riding a _flying_ woodpecker. Midair. It's kinda nuts."

Dean pulled up short, trying to visualize that for a moment. He gave up and shook his head. "So I'm guessing there's nothing on the Amara meter either."

"Uh, no. No more reports of people sounding like they're turning up soulless that I can find."

Dean slid into the chair at the end of the table. "Guess that's a plus." He reached into his takeout bag and pulled out what was sure to be the highlight of his day. Shooting his brother an ecstatic look, Dean carefully set the paper tray on the table and pushed the wrapping down, revealing the most beautiful thing Dean had seen in a long while. Immensely pleased, he tossed the paper bag over his shoulder, leaving the burger on full, undisrupted display.

Sam stared at it. "What the hell is that?"

"That?" Dean said, grinning madly. "That's the Elvis."

"Elvis?" Sam repeated.

"Mhm-hmm," Dean mumbled, basking in anticipation of that first bite.

Sam's forehead creased as he reached out to touch it. "Is that a—?"

"That's a glazed donut," Dean confirmed.

Sam yanked his hand back and rubbed his fingers together.

"Two, actually," Dean went on. "One topside, one on the bottom. Now, your inferior versions, they'll just take one donut, split it right down the middle. Mmm-mm." He shook his head and clicked his tongue, pointing to the work of art. "Boom." He blew a kiss and leaned back in his chair.

Sam's mouth quirked. "Alright, well, uh, I hope you enjoy it." He slid the tray back toward Dean, adding under his breath, "Wow."

Dean stared at his brother in disbelief, started to gesture to the other bag and the second burger he had brought, then let out an exasperated noise. "You know there are starving children out there."

Sam raised his palms in defense. "Dude, I'm not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks to get flatlined by some double donut monstrosity—"

"The Elvis!" Dean corrected sharply, just as his phone started to ring.

"Whatever!" Sam rejoined.

Mentally grousing about his younger brother's utter disregard for the finer things in life, Dean fished his cell out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Oh, this should be good.

"How many calories are in that thing?" Sam continued, but Dean ignored him and hit the answer key.

"Hey! Long time. Your Caddyshack review is way overdue."

He was greeted by an exaggerated huff that came standard on all emo teenagers. "I need your help. With a case."

No time for small talk, then. "Yeah, you got it. We're there." He hung up and looked over at Sam. "How do you feel about South Dakota?"

His brother's brows shot upward. "Was that Claire?"

"Yup." Dean picked up the Elvis and shoved a huge bite in his mouth. If they were gonna hit the road soon, he wanted to finish his burger first before it got soggy. "Sh sab theb's a case."

Sam's face scrunched up as Dean tried to talk around his mouthful. "Okay, uh, you gonna tell Cas?"

Dean chewed thoughtfully. Cas had been binge watching Netflix for the past week, barely leaving the room they'd set him up in. He'd been "healing" after Rowena's curse did a number on him, but surely he was ready to get back in the game by now. Dean wondered what Claire would say if they brought Cas along. Not that she'd mentioned _not_ wanting to see the angel, and Dean thought they'd parted amicably the last time, despite them failing to save Claire's mom. Besides, Cas would want to know how Claire was doing.

Dean swallowed and set his burger down with a sigh. "Yeah, I'll go tell him."

He briefly considered taking Sam's rejected burger and offering it to the angel, but Cas would probably diss it too. Did no one else in the bunker have good taste?

Dean gave the Elvis a longing look before regretfully pushing out of his chair and heading down to the dormitory wing. He reached Cas's door, which was open a crack, the flickering blue luminescence of an LED screen filling the darkened space.

Dean rapped his knuckles on the door before pushing it open. Cas sat crosslegged on the bed, his trench coat and suit jacket draped over the desk chair. For a guy who was supposedly healing, he had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Dean frowned at Cas's state and lack of response. Okay, this was bordering on unhealthy.

He cleared his throat and switched on the desk lamp. Cas flinched at the intrusive light, which really wasn't all that bright to begin with.

"Dean," the angel said, voice rougher than usual.

"Cas." He flicked his gaze to the laptop perched on the dresser. "Daytime television, really? I thought we were past this crap."

"It's mind-numbing."

"Yeah, that's why we need to say no to it." Dean grabbed the remote off the mattress and hit the pause button. "Listen, Sam and I have a case."

Cas kept his glazed eyes glued to the screen. "Okay."

Dean shifted his weight. Maybe he shouldn't say anything if Cas wasn't up to a hunt. Although…it also looked like the dude seriously needed to get out for a bit.

"Claire called, said there's a monster in Sioux Falls. Sam and I are gonna head over and check it out."

Cas finally jerked his head up. "What kind of monster?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't know. I'll get the deets when we arrive. So, uh…you wanna come with?"

Cas's brow furrowed, and his mouth pressed into a tight line. Slowly, he scooted off the bed. "Should we leave now? You don't think Claire will try to hunt this thing on her own, do you?"

Dean held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, calm down. She called for help, remember?" He did not mention that the last time they'd seen Claire, Dean had let her take the Grigori sword and slipped her an Enochian lore book, thereby indirectly _encouraging_ her to hunt. But it was for her own protection. Once a civilian learned about the things that went bump in the night, it was hard not to run into them.

"Me and Sam will pack our gear and we'll be on the road soon," Dean said.

Cas seemed momentarily appeased by that, and moved to the chair to grab his suit jacket and coat. Dean resigned himself to enjoying the Elvis some other time.

* * *

Castiel fidgeted in the backseat of the Impala. He couldn't understand his uneasiness; he'd ridden in the car with the Winchesters countless times before, had even come to enjoy it. Now, however, his heart rate was higher than normal and his nerves felt frayed to the point he was wound tighter than Fate's loom.

The passing landscape, which at one time had been soothing to watch fly by, now only made Castiel more anxious. Shapes would pop in his peripheral vision, setting off internal alarms that they might be under attack. But it would just be a tree branch extending across the edge of the highway, or a power line sweeping overhead.

Castiel was beginning to regret leaving the bunker. The darkness of the bedroom with the distraction of the television had provided an anesthetized mental shroud Castiel hadn't realized he needed.

He tried to focus on something else, like Claire. It'd been a while since he'd checked up on her…since he'd failed to save Amelia, actually. It wasn't that Castiel was intentionally neglecting her; no, he truly wanted to look out for the girl whose life he was responsible for ruining, though Claire had made it clear that she thought she could look after herself. Theirs was a…complicated relationship.

Castiel knew this, yet it still stung slightly that Claire had reached out to Dean for help instead of him. He couldn't really blame her, though. Castiel hadn't exactly been reachable while dealing with the Mark of Cain, and then afterward he'd been under the attack dog spell. If Claire had needed him at some point during those times…he wouldn't have been available to even answer. And if he had…if he'd gone to her…

A flash of Dean's bloody and swollen face appeared before his eyes. Castiel flinched as he felt the crack of bone under his knuckles. A red haze fell over his vision like a curtain, and in the next instant, it wasn't that poor, nameless woman he saw himself chasing through that warehouse. It was Claire.

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut. _No, no, no…_

"Cas, you okay?" Sam's voice sounded far away as though underwater, but Castiel desperately tried to latch onto it.

He pried his eyes open and stared at his lap. There was no blood on his hands and clothes. The rumble of the Impala's engine vibrated along the chassis and up through the seats, chasing away the last echoes of screaming.

"Cas?" Sam said again, and he finally looked up to meet the hunter's worried gaze. Dean was also throwing him furtive looks in the rearview mirror.

"I'm fine," he managed to get out.

Sam's frown deepened as though he didn't believe him. "You sure?"

Castiel drew his shoulders back. "Yes." He gritted his teeth when Sam exchanged a silent look with Dean. If it wasn't already too late, he would have changed his mind about coming on this case. But he was here, and without wings or wheels of his own, he couldn't go back to the safety of the bunker.

Besides, this was Claire. Castiel could pull himself together for her.

They finally pulled up to Jody Mills's house. It looked quiet, set across the street from a park. Castiel had never met the Sheriff, but Sam and Dean trusted her, and Castiel thought this seemed like a good place for Claire to get her life back on track.

The three of them exited the car and walked up to the front door. Dean knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung inward, revealing Claire. Her hair was down in a more comely style than the one-sided cornrows she'd had before, and she was wearing 'hunter plaid' as the Winchesters sometimes called it. She looked good, though still wore the mascara a little thick.

Her expression slackened for a moment when she saw Castiel, but it was quickly covered up with an air of aloofness. "Oh, you came too."

Castiel glanced at the Winchesters, who were exchanging awkward looks. He cleared his throat. "Of course. Dean said you needed help with a case."

Claire gave a begrudging nod, and opened the door further. "Yeah. Come in and I'll tell you about it." She moved away and into the adjoining living room. Sam, Dean, and Castiel filed in behind her.

"Claire," Castiel said, before they could get down to business. "How are you?"

She crossed her arms. "Fine. Except there's a monster in the woods."

"What evidence do you have?" Sam asked.

"A guy was found dead, his throat ripped out."

Dean's brows rose. "Just one? Uh, okay. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Claire opened her mouth to explain, but was interrupted by the door squeaking open and two women walking in with grocery bags.

"Well, there goes the neighborhood," the older brunette greeted.

Castiel was certain that was meant to be a negative saying, but her tone was cheerful.

Sam moved to give the woman a hug. "Jody." He pulled back and reached for the grocery bags. "Hey, let me help you out."

"Oh, thank you." She passed her load off to Sam, and then waved Dean over. "Come here."

"It has been too long," Dean said, engulfing her in a fervent hug.

"Yeah, clearly it's been too long," Sam said, turning to the girl who'd come in with the Sheriff. "'Cause Alex, that is you, right?"

The young woman rolled her eyes, much the way Castiel had seen Claire do. Must be a teenager thing.

"I don't look that different," she huffed.

"It's amazing what you can accomplish when you spend two hours in the bathroom every morning," Claire groused.

"Since when are you even up in the morning?" Alex retorted. "I'm surprised you're awake now."

"Hey!" Jody interjected sharply. "I'm pretty sure the guys didn't come here to watch you two kill each other." She finally looked Castiel's way. "And this is…?"

"Castiel," he hurried to say. "I'm, uh…" he glanced at Claire, not sure how to introduce himself.

Jody's eyes widened, and she flicked an uncertain look at the girl as well, then back to him. "You're the angel who…"

Castiel ducked his gaze. "Um, yes."

"Cas is cool," Sam chimed in.

"Right," Jody said, still eyeing him cautiously. "So is everything okay? I didn't accidentally butt dial you or anything, did I?"

"I called," Claire put in. "About the monster. That you refuse to believe is a monster." With that, the teen swept out of the living room. Castiel wasn't sure whether he should follow or not.

"Oh—you gotta be kidding." Jody let out a frustrated sound. "You know, if you'd checked in with me, I could have saved you a trip," she told the Winchesters.

Dean waved it off. "Well, we figured we owed you a visit."

Jody canted her head for a moment. "And you know what, actually," she said, tone changing from exasperated to pleased. "I could use the backup." She took the grocery bags back from Sam. "Let me have that. I'm gonna put another chicken on. You settle in."

Dean's mouth moved as she strode off toward the kitchen. "…You might wanna make it two, or…yeah."

Sam nodded heartily.

Castiel furrowed his brow. "What do you suppose she needs backup for, if she doesn't believe there's a monster?"

The boys paused, then shrugged.

"Dunno," Dean said. "But if there's food involved, I'm in."

Castiel looked toward the hallway where Claire had disappeared through. Part of him wanted to go after her and…he wasn't sure what. Console her? Find out what was really going on? Well, he supposed there would be time for that later, and perhaps Claire needed some privacy right now.

The Winchesters settled on the couches and started talking excitedly under their breaths about eating "real food" for dinner. Castiel didn't like the inactivity. It left room for…unpleasant things. And since the television wasn't an option here, he had to find another means of distraction. Clanging pots in the kitchen drew his attention, and after a moment, Castiel took a fortifying breath and made his way into that part of the house.

The aroma of rosemary and thyme hit his senses when he entered the kitchen, and he surveyed the pots of mashed potatoes and beans on the stove, the seasonings on the counter, and the chicken in the oven. Castiel found himself feeling completely out of his element.

Jody glanced up at him. "You need something?"

"I, uh, was wondering if you needed help." He gazed dubiously at the various cooking items, regretting coming in at all; there was no way for him to be useful here.

Jody gave him a sympathetic smile. "How about you set the table."

Castiel perked up. "Oh, yes. I can do that." He took a step forward, only to hesitate.

Jody seemed to understand, and cocked her head over her shoulder. "Top cabinet on the left."

Castiel maneuvered around the woman and found the plates where she'd indicated. He pulled out five, thought better of it, and grabbed a sixth. Though he didn't need to eat, and food didn't exactly taste as scrumptious as it had when he'd been human, he didn't want to be rude. He could force a few bites down, even if they tasted like molecules.

Though, part of him was afraid they wouldn't. He'd been so weakened after Rowena's spell, and his grace hadn't been whole to begin with when he'd gotten it back from Metatron…Castiel could very well be closer to human these days.

"How is Claire doing?" he tentatively asked.

Jody shook her head as she stirred the potatoes. "Well, she started college, but she hasn't been to classes for weeks. She doesn't have any friends. She spends all her time trolling for cases and reading lore."

Castiel tensed. "What? Claire is hunting?"

"I've got nothing against it," Jody said as a caveat. "But if she's hiding in it because she doesn't have anything else? I'm just…worried about her being so alone."

Castiel's heart fell. It was his fault Claire had no one, no family to look after her…but then, that last part wasn't exactly true, now was it?

"Thank you for taking her in," he said earnestly.

Jody sighed. "I'm not her mom. I don't have that kind of history with her."

Castiel nodded in understanding. "And I'm not her father."

Jody set the wooden spoon down and turned to consider him. "I can't even begin to understand this whole convoluted situation between you and her and her real dad. But…I think you care about her. And she doesn't seem to outright hate you."

"She has every right to hate me," he rejoined.

Jody waved him off. "Trust me, take what you can get." She switched the oven off and began sliding the chickens out. "And who knows, maybe she'll listen to you about not hunting. You and the Hardy Boys."

Castiel wasn't sure about that, but he would try.

Jody glanced over at him. "You gonna set that table, or what? Dinner's almost ready."

Castiel started, but relaxed when he realized her tone was only mildly chiding. He found the drawer of silverware and collected the necessary items, then carried everything into the dining room. It would prove to be an interesting evening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More lines from episode 11x12 "Don't You Forget About Me"; they're not mine. But I couldn't resist rewriting this scene with Cas involved. So there's a major spew warning.

 

Dean shoved another forkful of chicken into his mouth. He could not believe how good everything tasted. Dare he say—though not to Sam—it was even better than the Elvis. His fork clanged on his plate as he scooped up another bite. To his right, Sam's silverware was also clattering eagerly in between satiated mumbles of pleasure.

"Mmm," Dean moaned. "Oh, this bird is fantastic."

Jody arched a single brow at him.

"When you mix it up with the…potatoes and the- the beans," he tried to explain, then asked in disbelief, "You guys eat like this every day?"

Jody's mouth twitched with a barely concealed smile. "It's just chicken."

"It's shaped like chicken!" Sam raved. "Not a patty, or a nugget."

Things Dean had never had anything against before, but this here…might just be enough to make him rethink his staple diet.

"I agree," Cas said. "It does taste better than anything I ever microwaved at a Gas-N-Sip."

Sam quirked a furrowed look at the angel. "It doesn't taste like molecules?"

Cas rolled one shoulder. "No."

Jody's brows rose further. "Hey, no one's ever accused me of cooking _that_ badly."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look; Cas being able to taste food usually meant he was on the lower end of the power spectrum. The angel hadn't been particularly clear about his condition after Rowena's spell, only that he needed to "rest and heal." Maybe Dean should have pressed him more.

"Can we get to the case?" Claire interrupted.

Dean grabbed a dinner roll and started ripping into it as he gave Claire his (mostly) undivided attention.

"A guy was ripped to shreds in the woods," she continued.

"His heart wasn't missing, so not werewolf," Jody countered. "And vampires stick with tearing out the throat or areas near major veins. This guy was completely mauled. Don't you think I checked into it?"

Cas cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, well, there are other things that might attack a human in that manner." He flashed Claire a supportive smile.

"Thank you," Claire said before turning back to Dean and Sam. "I've been looking into the area, and this isn't the first time someone's been attacked out there."

"Right…" Dean reached over Sam to dish out a heaping serving of mashed potatoes.

"Dude," his brother protested.

Dean deposited the huge lump on his plate with a slop. "There's plenty left." He raised questioning brows at Jody. "History?"

"Some animal attacks _decades_ ago. And yes, there's about four pounds left on the stove."

_Awesome_. Dean started wondering if Jody might be persuaded to make them a care package to take home when they were all done here.

"Guys," Claire pressed. "There's something out there. People have reported seeing a strange creature in the woods while hiking."

Alex rolled her eyes.

Cas folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward earnestly. "What did this strange creature look like?"

"Big. And…black. But definitely not a bear."

"This is according to the—hey!" Jody snapped at Alex, who had reached for Jody's wine glass. "Put it back."

Dean continued stuffing his face with food, as did Sam. And if Cas didn't start doing more than push his meal around his plate with a single bite here and there, Dean was gonna relieve him of it.

"…neighborhood crime blogs that Claire has been reading," Jody finished, shooting the Winchesters an exasperated look.

Dean would have made a snarky comment about using those kinds of sources if his mouth hadn't been so full.

Claire angled an offended look at the sheriff, her tone impressively low and controlled given the frustration evident on her face. "They're eye-witness accounts."

Sam swallowed. "Well, we've hunted on less," he graciously allowed.

True, but it was sounding really slim to Dean. "What else you got?" he asked.

Claire ducked her gaze and resumed picking at her food. "Uh, I'm working on it."

He frowned, an inkling of suspicion stirring that Claire had actually called them out here for nothing. Not that they weren't happy to visit, like Dean said, but if Claire was crying wolf…that was kind of a problem.

"Claire did catch a werewolf," Alex put in helpfully, but then paused. "Oh right, turned out to be a German Shepherd with rabies," she added dryly.

Dean's brows rose sharply. Oh.

"And before that was the 'vampire,'" Jody said, shooting the girl a pointed look. "Councilwoman into erotic cosplay. I didn't know what cosplay was before that. Super embarrassing for the whole force."

Cas furrowed his brow. "What is cosplay?"

Dean gave him a fervent head shake, and forced down his mouthful before turning to Claire. "You've been busy."

She leveled a peeved look at him. "I've been hunting."

"AKA menacing innocent _people_ ," Jody said. "Claire has a whole string of assaults racked up. The only reason she's not sitting in jail right now is that I'm the sheriff."

Cas heaved a heavy sigh. "Claire, is that true?"

"Fine, I've been wrong," she admitted, and then turned pleading eyes to Dean, who'd honestly up until this point had been more focused on the meal. "But this time, I know there's a monster."

Alex let out a vexed snort. "Can we stop talking about monsters and hunting? What about real life?"

"Real life?" Claire repeated, voice rising an octave. She stared incredulously at Alex for a moment before shaking her head and putting on a sweet smile that Dean suddenly suspected had ulterior sentiments.

"Okay." Claire grinned. "Yeah, sure. Let's get real. You and Henry set on a weekend yet?"

Alex frowned in confusion. "What?"

"When you're sneaking off to Jody's cabin to screw yourself silly."

Alex's eyes widened, her mouth moving in a soundless sputter.

Dean set his fork and knife down. "Oh. Here we go." He caught Cas's bemused gaze, but waved a subtle finger for him to keep quiet.

Jody was gaping at the two girls, forkful of chicken hovering halfway to her open mouth.

"Um, we're not…" Alex glanced around nervously before turning to Claire with a dark glower. "You're completely insane."

Claire lifted her water glass with a smirk. "You might wanna clear your g-tracks before you commit to that."

Sam put his napkin on the table and started scooting out of his chair. "This seems like, uh, family business."

Dean was about to agree, but then Jody slammed her hand on the table and skewered them with a look. "Sit! Stay."

Dean and Sam froze. Cas looked like a dear caught in headlights.

Jody set her fork down. "Um…" She cleared her throat, setting her elbows on the table and interlocking her fingers. "Alex, anything you want to say?"

Alex took a large gulp of water. "Nope," she said quietly.

"'Kay, uh, well, um, I may have…I've… _definitely_ —seen birth control pills in your backpack."

Alex whipped her head up, expression mortified.

"Oh, we're going there," Sam stammered.

"Oh yeah." Dean couldn't help looking at Alex, though now would be a really good time for him and Sam to find an exit. Too bad Cas's wings were clipped.

"Oh my god," Alex uttered while Claire laughed.

"Hey, if we can't talk about it we shouldn't be doing it, right?" Jody looked at Dean and Sam. Her brows rose expectantly as she kept nodding subtly at them. "Right?"

Dean nearly choked on his chicken. "What?"

Sam stuttered uselessly.

Jody glared at them until Cas spoke up,

"Uh, right?" He didn't sound fully certain of what he was agreeing with. Dean's brain was still struggling to catch up, himself; how did he get roped into this conversation?

Jody nodded appreciatively at the angel, and then took a deep breath and turned back to Alex. "Okay. I'm not gonna tell you that you are too young to be having sex—or you." She pointed to Claire.

Alex snorted. "Who's she gonna have sex with? She doesn't talk to anybody."

"Hey," Jody reprimanded.

Cas shifted in his seat. "I'm feeling very uncomfortable with this topic."

"That makes two of us," Dean said under his breath.

Jody held up a warning hand toward them while still focusing on the teenage girls. "Um, what I will tell you is that birth control pills are useless against STD's. Whoever you are with needs to suit up! Every time. Always. No…pulling up the drawbridge early."

"I know I get it!" Alex exclaimed.

Claire snickered beside her.

At least that settled it. Shaking his head, Dean picked up his fork again.

"And don't expect the guy, as much as I love Henry, to always show up packing," Jody continued, turning to Dean and Sam again. "Am I right?"

Sam quickly shoved a bite full of food into his mouth.

Dean stared at Jody blankly. "Wh-what?"

"Seriously?" she hissed.

"Stop!" Alex begged. "We haven't done anything yet. I'm just…trying to be prepared."

Jody's mouth fell open. She looked once again at the Winchesters as though asking for help. But if this was the kind of backup she'd meant earlier, she picked the wrong team. Sam gave a jerky nod, and Dean smiled before quickly lifting his wine glass to take a long drag. He was so not qualified for this.

Cas eventually cleared his throat and turned to Alex seriously. "I've found an angel blade is also useful for protection in those types of…situations."

Dean spit the wine across the table, eliciting a yelp from Claire as she jerked back in her seat.

"Oh god," Sam choked, lifting his eyes to the ceiling.

Jody gawked at the angel for several long beats, and then slowly removed the napkin from her lap and set it on the table. "Great, um, we need some more mashed potatoes, right? Mashed potatoes, I'm just gonna…gonna…"

Dean watched her flounder as she picked up her own glass of wine and drained it.

"I'm gonna get some more potatoes. Po-ta-toes." Jody grabbed the bowl and retreated into the kitchen.

Only the small clink of silverware filled the gap in conversation. Dean stuffed another bite of chicken in his mouth and forced a grin at Claire. "This is fun."

She let out a fake laugh in return.

Sam gave Dean a somewhat constipated look. Jeez, it wasn't like he'd brought up the sensitive topics. He ducked his gaze and reached for more wine.

Thankfully, there was no more talk of sex or birth control after that, just two morose teenage girls picking at their food and two hungry Winchesters wolfing down a third helping. Cas and Jody were the only ones eating at a normal, sedate pace.

Once everyone had finished, Dean helped Jody clear the table while the girls headed upstairs to their rooms and Sam and Cas went out to get the bags from the car. Jody had offered her sofas to the guys, and the angel didn't need to sleep anyway.

Dean carried the last plate and wine glass in and set them on the kitchen counter. "Nice ambush in there."

"Hey, you guys crashed my pad first," she rejoined, rinsing soap suds off the plate in the sink.

Dean grabbed a dishrag and a plate from the drying rack. "Well, you know, I thought we were going to be helping you with monsters, not birth control."

"Welcome to my world. I mean…" She turned around and leaned against the counter. "Don't get me wrong, I love those girls, but…man, I am hanging on by my fingertips. The last guy Claire pegged as a monster, she held a sword to his throat. He is hell-bent on pressing charges."

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "You know, I gotta be honest, I thought it was gonna be Alex with the, uh, adjustment issues."

Jody nodded fervently. "Oh yeah, it was rough going there for a bit, too." She shrugged. "But this year everything clicked. She's dating the most popular guy in school for gosh sake."

"Yeah I know," Dean said. "I barely recognized her."

Jody sighed. "I keep hoping things will click for Claire, too. But if she's not even _open_ to it…"

Dean nodded in understanding. "Well, we can talk to Claire, and we'll get her to settle down."

Jody flashed him a relieved smile before her expression turned pensive. "So, that's Castiel."

"Cas. And—yeah." He wasn't sure what else there was to say about _that_ can of worms.

"He's not what I was expecting."

Dean let out a soft snort. "He's different. But once you get to know him, he's really just a nerd with wings. And he does care about Claire."

"Yeah, I got that sense."

Dean gestured to the few remaining dishes to dry. "I'll finish this."

Jody smiled and patted his arm. "Thanks. I'm glad you came up, even if it was for nothing."

"Never for nothing." He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Besides, me and Sam haven't eaten this good in…well, a really long time."

Jody rolled her eyes. "I'll send you back with some recipes."

"Ah, actually leftovers would be better."

"That too. Night, Dean."

"Night."

Dean finished drying the dishes and stacking them in the cupboard. Then he headed out to the living room where Jody had left some blankets draped over the sofas. The light under the hall bathroom was on, probably Sam going through his nightly routine. Cas was sitting at the dining room table, staring into space. Dean thought maybe that even though angels didn't need to sleep, Cas did some meditation or something. But then he noticed Cas's hands were shaking.

"Cas?" Dean reached forward to touch his shoulder. His fingers barely brushed Cas's arm before the angel lurched violently, skidding the chair back an inch, his eyes snapping wide.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean threw his hands up. "It's just me."

Cas blinked rapidly. "Dean? Oh." He rolled his shoulder. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Dean frowned. "Cas, you okay?"

The angel ducked his gaze. "Fine."

"You keep saying that." Dean eased himself into the next chair over. "But this doesn't look okay."

Cas's jaw tightened. "I'm…it's…harder, than I thought it would be."

"What is? Seeing Claire again? I thought you wanted to."

"No," Cas ground out. "Not Claire. Just, right now. The quiet…it's too much."

Dean's frown deepened. "Huh?"

Cas looked away again, frustration and something like embarrassment flickering across his face.

Dean folded his hands across his lap. He did not go through nearly losing his best friend to that stupid spell, only to ignore if Cas was still suffering from it. "Talk to me."

After a long moment of silence, Cas finally lifted a hand to cover his eyes. "When there's nothing else to focus on…I keep seeing…"

Dean tensed. "Seeing what?"

Cas let out a shuddering breath and whispered, "You."

Dean's throat tightened; he didn't think he was going to like where this was headed, but he couldn't bow out now. "Okay…"

"What I did," Cas continued in a quiet voice, and flicked a look at Dean's face as though he could still see the bruises even though they'd finally healed. "I _feel_ it, hitting you, bearing down to kill. I…" His chest hitched. "I see red again."

Dean's stomach clenched in sympathy. Sounded like flashbacks. Exactly like what Dean had experienced after he'd beaten Cas to a pulp and left him broken and bleeding on the bunker floor. Jeez, they had quite the track record.

"And then I see Claire," Cas said in a wrecked voice. "She's running, crying, begging me not to hurt her, and I can't stop—"

Dean lashed out to grip his forearm. "Hey, you are not going to hurt Claire."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. For one thing, you're not under a rabid spell anymore."

Cas leaned his head back to gaze at the ceiling. "Do you know how many times I've hurt the ones I care about? Against my will? I'm hardly trustworthy, Dean."

His chest constricted. "That is not true, Cas. Rowena's spell…Naomi—those weren't your fault."

"They still happened," Cas replied. He shook his head. "I shouldn't have come. It's safer for—if I just stay in the bunker."

Dean furrowed his brow. Safer for…everyone else? Or for Cas?

Something dark and ugly started to unfurl in his gut. Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, afraid of asking but needing to know. "You, uh, relive what I did to you?"

Cas glanced up to meet his gaze for a brief moment. "Sometimes," he admitted quietly.

Dean took in a shaky breath. He should have expected that. What he did was unforgivable, and letting a rabidly spelled Cas pummel him in return wasn't nearly enough to make them square. Really, it was only a pathetic attempt on Dean's part to alleviate his own guilt. It didn't help Cas.

"Not often," Cas added, sounding grieved for making Dean face the consequences of his own mistakes. "It's mostly what I did while under Rowena's spell. What…what I'm capable of doing."

Dean held back a sigh. They were quite the pair, weren't they?

"So…the Netflix binge watching…" he prompted, figuring he knew the reason now.

Cas looked away again in shame. "It…helps. So I don't have to think about it."

Dean nodded slowly. He understood, he really did. And this was something they were seriously gonna have to talk about later. But for now…

"Be right back." Dean got up and went into the living room. He pulled up short at the sight of Sam standing against the wall in the dark. Dean hadn't even heard him come out of the bathroom, but by the troubled look on his face, it'd been long ago enough for him to hear most of that conversation.

Sam didn't say anything, though, as Dean went to rifle through his brother's duffel for his laptop. There was a pair of earbuds on the side table next to one of the girl's MP3 players, and Dean snatched those up too. He brought both back to Cas, along with a charger to plug in the computer.

"I'm not saying this is a long-term coping method," he warned, setting the laptop on the dining table. "But Sam's got a bunch of random videos in his browser history, including something about a weasel and a woodpecker. That should hold you over tonight, okay?"

Cas blinked at him in surprise, and then hesitantly took the earbuds he offered. "Thank you, Dean."

He nodded. It wasn't much, and they were gonna have to find a way to deal with this later. Dean never would have figured Cas could suffer from something so human as PTSD. But then, Cas had spent more time as a human than most angels. And he'd been through a lot. They all had. Dean just hoped there was something he and Sam could actually do to help.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's commented, subscribed, and left kudos! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. =) Also, I'll have a one-shot for you guys on Wednesday!

 

With the laptop and earbuds, Castiel was able to fully immerse himself in distraction for the entire night. He hadn't even noticed the sun had risen and that people were milling around him until Claire poked him in the shoulder.

"You're a TV junkie now?"

Castiel jolted out of the trance and hit pause on the laptop. "Well, I, uh, don't sleep. And I've been told it's 'creepy,'" he added the air quotes, "to watch when other people do…"

Claire just stared at him blankly. "Alex 'needs'—" Claire used air quotes and an eye roll, "—her earbuds before school."

Castiel hastily took them out and unplugged them. Alex appeared, backpack over one shoulder, and he handed them over with an apology. Jody Mills came up behind the girl, shooing her toward the door.

"Let's go, let's go; we don't want to be late." She glanced at Castiel. "Breakfast is pop-tarts if you're hungry." Jody cocked her head toward the kitchen where Dean emerged, a toasted pastry in one hand and coffee cup in the other. "Sorry it's not gourmet waffles," she added ruefully.

"Can you make waffles?" Dean asked around a mouthful, brows lifting hopefully.

Jody shook her head in amusement. "Maybe later." She cast a look at Claire. "And dare I ask what you all have planned for the day?"

Claire crossed her arms. "Not a trip to the mall."

Jody sighed, moving to grab her uniform jacket from the coat closet. "Just try not to attack anyone today, please? I've got Democratic nominees coming in for a convention and the office is swamped running security." She grabbed her holstered gun from a drawer. "And the last thing I need is for you to go from public menace to suspected terrorist."

"I'll make sure she stays out of trouble," Castiel promised.

Jody gave him and Dean one last meaningful look before hurrying out the door. Once she was gone, Claire turned to them with a smile.

"Great, let's go hunt a monster. I'll grab my gear." With that, she bounded up the stairs toward her bedroom.

Castiel's mouth thinned. Claire had gear? He turned to Dean. "What are we going to do?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess it can't hurt to go out and take a look. She won't let it go otherwise. Like a dog with a bone." He lifted his pop-tart. "You hungry?"

"No," Castiel replied. "I don't need to eat; I was just being polite last night."

"Alright. I'll grab Sam, meet you outside." Dean shoved the rest of his pastry in his mouth and went back into the kitchen.

Castiel glanced at the laptop, screen frozen on the show he'd been watching. Things were much simpler in TV land—the characters were the ones who had to deal with problems, not Castiel. He could watch everything unfold without intervening, just as he had all those years ago with his garrison watching earth.

Now, though, he was an active player. And when he'd been stronger, more sure of his role, it had been different. He'd known what he was doing—or thought he had. But in reality he'd been a pawn for most of it, and where he hadn't, he'd only made things colossally worse. The truth was he had no idea what he was supposed to do now, with the mysterious Darkness that was on the loose, with Claire going down a path that could lead to an early grave—his fault too—or with himself. It made getting up and moving all that more difficult.

Castiel closed down the laptop and forced himself to walk out that door.

* * *

The drive to the edge of the woods was filled with Dean and Claire exchanging banter about some film called Caddyshack. Unfortunately, it was not one of the ones Metatron had downloaded into Castiel's mind, and so he wasn't able to keep up or join in with their running commentary. He made a mental note to add it to Sam's Netflix queue.

Dean parked in a lot outside some campgrounds, and they all exited the Impala.

"The body was found two miles in," Claire informed them, hiking her knapsack up on her shoulder.

"Awesome," Dean muttered, but nevertheless, they began following Claire as she led them into the woods. Talk of movies ceased, and the only sounds were the crunch of mulch beneath their feet and flutter of startled birds.

Castiel's pulse started to race. The environment looked too familiar, and the swish of wings… Angels' faces flashed before his eyes, tinged in bleeding red. The darkness of the hood thrown over his head did nothing to banish the raging color that painted his entire world in violence.

"Go on ahead." Dean's voice sounded far off, but in the next moment it was hissing in Castiel's ear. " _Cas_."

He gave himself a sharp shake, and taloned shadows receded into harmless tree branches. Castiel blinked to find that he had stopped moving. Dean was at his shoulder, while Sam and Claire were several yards ahead.

"Take a deep breath," Dean instructed.

Castiel found himself naturally obeying. It was easier.

The Winchester stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Sam and Claire, or perhaps it was the other way around.

Dean waited a beat. "You good?"

Castiel forced himself to nod. "I'm sorry."

Dean let out a long exhale, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. "It's okay, Cas. I just…I didn't realize it was this bad."

He drew his shoulders back. "I'll make sure it won't happen again."

Dean's mouth quirked ruefully. "Pretty sure it doesn't work that way." He glanced over his shoulder. "Look, try talking to Claire. That's part of the reason we're out here, right?"

Castiel slowly nodded. "Right."

He took another deep breath, and then strode forward to catch up with the others. Sam looked at him with obvious, unveiled concern, which made Castiel uncomfortable; he was tired of being a burden.

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he turned to Claire. "Jody told me you started college."

Claire arched a dubious brow at him. "Yeah, so?"

"What classes are you taking?"

She shrugged and kept walking. "Mostly GE courses. Boring mandatory stuff."

"College is the time to test out different subjects," Sam put in. "See what you like."

"I don't like math, but it's still required."

Castiel quickened his pace to keep up with her. "What _are_ you interested in studying?"

Claire whirled on him. "Hunting."

He frowned. "I'm pretty sure post-secondary institutions don't offer a degree in that."

"I'm used to a street education anyway."

"But now you have a chance for something better," Castiel pressed. "Something normal." He had seen that type of longing in Sam over the years, for a life not plagued by monsters and demons and the fate of the world. Why would Claire willingly run toward such a life?

"I'm not exactly normal, now am I?" she retorted. "I know too much about what's out there. You want me to pretend that the world isn't full of monsters?"

"That's not what we're saying," Sam said. "But, Claire…the hunter life, it consumes you. There is no nine to five, you start seeing monsters at every Quick-Mart in town…"

"So now you think I'm nuts?" Claire shook her head in irritation and stormed off.

"Hey now," Dean put in, jogging to keep up. "No one's saying that. But it does seem like lately you've spent a lot of time hunting monsters that weren't there."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Sam gave her a sympathetic look. "You wouldn't be the first hunter who is trying to escape something."

Claire rolled her eyes. "And what am I escaping, exactly, aside from mind-numbing boredom?"

Dean spread his arms in a conciliatory gesture. "You tell me. And how are things with Jody and Alex? I'm not taking sides here, we're just trying to understand what's going on."

Claire shook her head. "They're not trying to make me feel bad. I mean—Alex says she hates me, but, um… Sometimes I just feel like I'm a little late to the Jody and Alex show."

Castiel nodded in understanding. "I can relate."

Sam and Dean both shot him incredulous looks.

"What?" he said.

Dean held up a hand at him, apparently fumbling for words. "Okay…that—later. Claire, none of us is saying that adjusting is easy."

"Yeah, well, maybe it's time I just head out on my own and be a full-fledged hunter."

"Claire, hunting is dangerous," Castiel protested.

"I'm not stupid," she lobbed back.

Sam threw both his palms up. "Okay, whoa. Claire, I absolutely understand the need to hunt. Believe me, I do. But the monsters are always going to be there. On and on. Forever. But a chance at a family? At a home? School? That won't be."

Castiel felt a pang in his chest for having been the catalyst that stole those things from Claire in the first place. He wanted to fix it, had ever since he'd tracked her down at that juvenile center. But he couldn't, not really. Castiel couldn't give Claire a family, or a home, or school. No, Jody was able to give her those things, and Castiel was immensely grateful for that. But the damage he had wrought would always be there, buried underneath layers and layers of a hardened exterior built to protect a lost little girl.

Claire didn't respond for several moments, and when she did, it was only to say they'd reached the spot. "Hiker was found over there." She pointed to an area of dirt splotched like rust from dried blood.

Sam's brows rose sharply. "You've already been out here?"

Claire threw him a deadpan look. "Yeah. I followed Jody out when she got the call." She scoffed. "What, you thought I came out here, _alone_?"

Sam made what Dean often called a 'bitch-face' as he went to examine the scene. Castiel also surveyed the surrounding woodland, extending his angelic senses as far as he could. Which, granted, wasn't terribly far, but everything was quiet and peaceful.

"Looks like a pretty big paw print over here," Sam said. "Cougar maybe?"

Castiel went to take a look. Unfortunately, he was not versed in the various paw sizes of North American wild cats.

Sam shook his head. "I don't see any evidence that this wasn't a wild animal."

Claire crossed her arms and scowled. "There's no evidence it _was_."

"Okay, okay," Dean interjected. "We're here, we might as well take a look around."

"I know exactly where to look," Claire said, swinging her bag around and pulling out a map. "I did my homework—just like you said to do." She shot Dean a pointed look. "Before I called you out here."

Both Castiel and Sam turned their gazes on Dean.

"You've been encouraging her to hunt?" Castiel asked incredulously.

Dean held up a finger. "No- no, that is not- what I said was to do her homework before doing something stupid."

"Because you meant statistics homework, right?" Sam said dryly. "Wouldn't want to do something stupid without the right numbers."

Claire smirked triumphantly, and unfolded her map. "There's an old mine not far from this spot. Local legend back then said a monster was living inside it. They closed it down after several disappearances."

"Okay, but like you said, that was decades ago," Sam countered.

"Some film students from one of my classes—yes, I've gone to a lecture or two—were talking about how they found the entrance and broke in to do some type of Blair Witch thing." Claire rolled her eyes. "And the very next day, that guy was killed." She threw each of them a beseeching look, desperate to be believed. Maybe that was all she needed, someone willing to see this through with her, even if it turned out to lead to nothing.

So Castiel cleared his throat. "Show us?"

Claire's expression turned grateful, and she quickly headed off. Castiel ignored Sam's sigh as he followed, the Winchesters right behind. The mine was hidden under a lot of overgrowth, though half of it had been torn away, along with some of the wooden slats that had barred the entrance. At least the story about the film students breaking in seemed to be accurate.

Claire stuffed the map back in her knapsack, only to draw out the Grigori's angel sword.

Castiel gaped at it. "How did you get that?"

Claire shrugged, and Castiel threw a chastising glare at Dean. The older Winchester worked his jaw for a moment before giving a half-guilty grin.

"Uh, guess I forgot to double check we'd grabbed it from the farm."

Sam also shot his brother a disapproving look. "Seriously?" he muttered.

"Hey, how did this become about me?"

Claire let out a disgruntled noise. "If you're so worried about my safety, shouldn't you be happy I have something I can protect myself with?" She turned to Castiel with a saccharine smile. "You were a big supporter of angel blades last night."

Dean suddenly sounded like he was choking. Castiel glanced over to check if he was okay; the hunter had a fist to his mouth and his face was turning red. Claire snickered.

Trying to gather his thoughts, Castiel turned back to Claire, only to find that she had started marching into the mine. "Claire, wait!" He hurried after her.

The cave was musty and dim, lit only by the light streaming in through the broken slats. Pickaxes and chisels lay in a pile to the right, and some crates labeled 'Dynamite' sat stacked along the opposite wall. Who knew what other hazardous materials might be lying around that Claire could brazenly stumble into.

There was a small click, and a beam of light pierced the shadows. Sam swung his flashlight around.

"Okay, you know what," Dean said, tone finally growing annoyed. "Maybe you are coming on a little too hard here, and should back off a bit."

Claire whirled back to face them. "There's something in this cave!"

"Yeah, and storming in here unprepared is a surefire way to get yourself killed. Now let's go." Dean gestured for her to get out of the tunnel.

"I'm not unprepared," she argued, hefting her angel sword as evidence. "And Castiel doesn't even need a weapon, right?"

She lifted her brows expectantly at him in a way that suddenly reminded Castiel of when Claire had manipulated him into breaking her out of that juvenile center. His instinct here was to, once again, leap to her aid. But how was he truly supposed to help when everyone had a different definition for what helping meant?

"Claire…" he started, only to stop when he felt a shift in the air. A few granules of silt sprinkled down from the ceiling.

Sam jerked his flashlight upward. "Uh, we should go. This place might not be stable after all this time."

Claire threw a reluctant look down the darkened tunnel. "But…"

Wood creaked and groaned, followed by something snapping. Castiel threw himself at Claire just as one of the support beams gave way, spilling down an avalanche of rock and dirt. They hit the ground, Castiel folding himself over Claire as much as he could.

There was a loud crunch, and Sam's flashlight went out.

* * *

Dean coughed and gagged on the cloud of dust clogging his throat. Rolling over, his back hit a craggy rock that pressed into his kidney with each hacking shudder. He spit out a glob of dirt.

"Sam?" Dean waved his arm through the haze, blinking past watering eyes in search of his brother. "Cas?"

A horrendous bout of coughs sounded to his right, and Dean turned toward it.

"Dean!"

"Sammy." He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, then staggered to his feet.

"Here." A lumbering shape appeared in his blurred vision, and Dean immediately lashed out to grip his brother's arms.

"You okay?"

"I think so." Sam coughed into his elbow, which only made him sneeze and hack worse since they were coated in dust. "You?"

"I'm good," Dean answered distractedly, sweeping his gaze around. The tunnel behind them had been completely filled with boulders and broken beams. "Cas! Claire!"

Sam pushed away from him and started stumbling through the rubble. Dean went to cover the opposite side of the cave. Where were they? The more the dust settled, the more light from outside filtered in, but Dean couldn't see Cas or Claire.

He finally met up with Sam in the center of the cave next to the boulders. Exchanging looks of mounting terror, they both turned to the wall of debris and started shouting.

"Cas! Claire!"

Sam shot a hand out to grab Dean's arm. "Shh, wait a second."

Dean froze.

"Dean? Sam?" came Cas's muffled voice.

Dean's tension spiked. "Cas! You okay?"

"I'm unhurt," he replied.

"And Claire?" Sam shouted.

There was a brief pause in which Dean thought his heart might stop. He'd supported entertaining Claire's insistence on going on this hunt. He should have talked her out of the whole thing back at Jody's.

"I'm fine," came a slightly peeved voice.

Dean sagged against the boulders.

"Dean? Sam?" Cas's voice rose an octave. "Are you alright?"

"We're good, Cas," Dean responded.

Sam was running his hands over the rubble and moving to the edge of the wall. "Cas, can you find a gap anywhere?"

Dean started looking, too.

"No," Cas responded after a moment. "But I can probably just move the rocks…"

"No!" Sam yelled. "The place is way too unstable. You could trigger another collapse." He threw a harried look at Dean, who swallowed hard.

"Okay, just sit tight," he shouted. "We'll go get Jody and be back in no time, okay? Just…don't do anything or go anywhere."

"Where would we go?" Claire's dry response filtered through the rocks.

Dean's gut tightened. He hated leaving them behind, but there was no way he and Sam would be able to dig them out on their own. He flattened his palm on one of the massive boulders. "We'll be back, okay?"

"Okay, Dean," Cas said.

Dean tore himself away and strode out of the mine. They were an hour's hike from where he'd left the Impala, and there was no cell service in the woods. He double checked anyway. No bars.

Sam hurried to match his stride. "What if there really is a monster in there?"

Dean's jaw tightened. "Cas can handle it," he said. But he quickened his pace.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Castiel stared at the wall of boulders with a baleful look, trying to determine if there was any way he could dig them out himself. But Sam was right; the risk of triggering another collapse was too great. He turned to Claire, who was still sitting on the ground where Castiel had tackled her. A few thin streams of light trickled through tiny gaps in the rocks, so at least running out of oxygen wouldn't be a problem.

Claire sighed. "Can't you just…fly us out?"

"My wings are broken," he replied gruffly.

Claire looked taken aback. "Oh." She fell silent for a moment before asking, "Is that why you drive that ugly-ass car?"

Castiel frowned. "Is it really that bad?" Sam had called it 'crappy,' and even Crowley had expressed disdain for it. Granted, he _was_ a demon and Castiel didn't care what he thought, but if it was the majority's consensus…

Claire was giving him a funny look. "What do I know about cars anyway?" she finally said dismissively.

"Well, I don't have it anymore. It was stolen."

"Someone actually stole that piece of—um…" Claire coughed into her sleeve. "Auto parts?"

"The perp used it as an escape vehicle," he replied.

"Ah." Claire roved her gaze around the mine shaft, thrumming her fingers on her leg. "So you gonna get the 'I told you so' over with? Because I'd like to point out that the cave collapsing is not my fault. It could have happened to anyone."

Castiel angled a stern look down at her. "Anyone careless. Given the age and decrepit state this mine is in, it would have been prudent to investigate the stability of its structure _before_ what was inside. Do you have any idea how lucky we all were that no one was seriously hurt? You, Sam, or Dean could have been killed!"

He stopped to suck in a harsh breath. He was getting worked up, his heart rate increasing unnecessarily again. Why did it keep doing that? He used to have much better control over his vessel.

Claire's jaw was tight as she stared back at him. "I'm sorry," she said in a low voice. "I was just trying to protect people since no one would believe me about the monster."

Castiel's shoulders sagged. She was trying to do something good; he understood that unbridled drive all too well, and how it could end up making things that much worse.

"Well, if there is a creature in this mine, let's hope it doesn't show itself until we are no longer trapped here." Castiel turned to face the barricade bitterly; there was once a time he wouldn't have feared such an encounter, would have offhandedly scoffed at the idea that a mere monster could pose a threat to him. He wasn't so sure anymore. And as long as other people's lives were on the line, Castiel would prefer flight over fight.

A pebble slipped loose from the top of the rock pile, tumbling down and knocking out a few more chinks.

Castiel's pulse spiked again. "We shouldn't stay so close to the cave-in." He turned and crouched down next to Claire, prepared to give her a hand up, but then he noticed the rip in her jeans and bloodied flesh dimly illuminated in a shaft of outside light.

"You're hurt! Dammit, why didn't you say something?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "It's a skinned knee; I'll live."

Castiel thought he heard another pebble come free, though it was hard to hear over the blood suddenly rushing in his ears. "We need to move." He slipped one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her up in one swift motion.

"Hey!" she yelped. "Castiel, I can walk!"

He ignored her protests and carried her several feet away, far enough that if another support beam broke, they shouldn't be caught in the resulting cave-in, but close enough there was still a little halo of hazy light to see by. He gently set Claire on the ground again.

She scowled. "You don't need to treat me with kids gloves, I'm not that breakable."

"Yes, you are." Castiel began pulling the edges of the torn jeans apart to see the wound better. "You're human and fragile and precious, and I should have been looking out for you better." Some of the skin was grated clean off, bloody streaks sticking to the pants material. "This is all my fault."

Claire let out a soft snort. "I thought it was mine for charging in here in the first place?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

Claire's brows rose. "Are you even listening to me?"

Castiel reached out and covered the injury with his hand, calling upon his grace to mend torn flesh and blood vessels. He could still do this, at least. An aura of golden light suffused from his palm, washing through mortal tissue and putting it back together. Castiel drew his hand back, revealing smooth skin.

"Thanks," Claire mumbled.

He barely heard her. His gaze had caught on the bright red smear staining his palm. Blood. _Claire's_ blood. Screams filled his head, and Castiel jerked away, stumbling over himself as he retreated to the far wall, chest heaving and vision coating in crimson.

Claire scrambled to her feet. "What the hell?"

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. "Where's the Grigori sword?" he ground out.

"Right here. Wh—"

"Hold onto it."

"It's not going anywhere," she said petulantly.

Castiel blew out a frustrated breath through his nose. He couldn't dispel the odor of copper. "I mean keep it in your hand."

"Why?" Claire asked slowly, suspiciously. She was right not to trust him.

"Just…" Castiel clenched his fists, and his voice dropped to almost a whisper of shame. "Just in case."

There was a prolonged beat of silence, and then he heard shuffling as Claire moved to the opposite wall and slid down to the ground. He also heard the faint clink of steel hit dirt as she probably set the sword next to her.

"Are you having a panic attack?" she asked.

" _No_ ," Castiel automatically responded. He refused to have…whatever these episodes were, while Claire was still in danger. He had to keep it together for her.

Drawing in several deep breaths, he managed to straighten and open his eyes. The red haze of Rowena's spell was gone, and with a semblance of control back, Castiel was able to blink the blood away from his hand. Only the thudding of his heart gave away that he was barely hanging on in this maelstrom of memories.

Except, seeing himself hurting Claire wasn't a memory. At least not in the literal sense of what he was seeing. He had hurt her, though, in other ways. Perhaps this was just his subconscious finding an outlet for the conviction of his sins.

Claire pulled one knee up, dangling her arm casually across it, as though unfazed by this whole thing. "Since when do angels get panic attacks?"

"They don't. I…" Castiel fumbled for an explanation, and, failing to come up with one, slumped in defeat. "I don't know what I am anymore."

"So you're having either a panic attack or an existential crisis."

"I'm not…well, right now," he forced out through gritted teeth. "And I don't want to hurt you."

Claire was quiet for a moment. "I don't think you'll hurt me," she said softly.

Castiel lifted a conscience-stricken gaze to her. "I ruin everything I touch."

Claire shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "Guess we have that in common, huh?"

He frowned. "Claire…"

"You heard Jody," she interrupted. "I'm a menace. And before that…well, you know. You and Sam and Dean want me to give 'normal' life a try. But the truth is I'll just mess that up, too, so why bother?"

Castiel instinctively took a step toward her, stirred to offer some kind of comfort, though he wasn't sure it was wanted or appreciated. "You're being too hard on yourself."

She smirked. "Mr. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle."

Castiel furrowed his brows and looked around. "What? There's no—"

"Oh god, you're hopeless." Claire rolled her eyes. Then her expression softened in contemplation. "Maybe we're both too hard on ourselves. I mean, Jody, Sam, and Dean seem to think there's something worthwhile in us, right?"

Castiel thought back to how hard the Winchesters had fought to find Rowena and have her reverse that spell before it killed him. And then how they'd let him stay in the bunker to recover, giving him time and space rather than insisting he get back out and on the trail of the Darkness. And last night, when Dean found out Castiel was still…struggling, the older Winchester had promised to help. As though maybe Castiel wasn't as permanently broken as he thought.

"Adjusting is…hard," he said, and swallowed against the lump in his throat. "But not impossible."

Claire didn't say anything else, yet her mien was thoughtful as they lapsed into silence.

The sound of shuffling dirt reached Castiel's hearing. He stiffened and whipped his head up. It was coming from the opposite direction of the unstable entrance.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked, following his gaze.

Down the pitch-black mine shaft, a pair of yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness.

* * *

The minute they were back in cell range, Sam dialed Jody's number. It rang five times before going to voicemail.

"She's not answering."

"Well try again!" Dean snapped.

Sam huffed in frustration; he was just as worried as his brother was. At least neither Claire nor Cas had been seriously hurt in that cave-in, or worse, half buried under rocks. They just needed to wait for a rescue. As long as there wasn't, in fact, a monster living in that mine…

He hit redial. The line rang several times, and each second that ticked by made Sam grip the phone harder. He was transferred to voicemail again.

"Jody, call me back as soon as you get this," Sam said hurriedly. "Claire and Cas are trapped in an old mine and we're gonna need rescue to dig them out. They're not hurt," he added quickly. "Just, call me back." He disconnected. "Should we go by the station?"

Dean nodded, and started to make the turn, but then slammed on the brakes, throwing Sam against the dash.

"What the hell, man?"

Dean was leaning over the steering wheel and gazing down the opposite street. "Jody said something about working a convention today." He pointed down the road to where streamers of red, white, and blue balloons were positioned on the sidewalk in front of what looked like a community center.

Cranking the wheel, Dean made a sharp turn, earning a honk from a nearby motorist he'd cut off. He revved down the street and pulled up right in front of the red zone. A police officer detached himself from the entrance and started storming over.

"Hey, you can't park here."

Dean exited the car and whipped out his fake ID badge. "FBI. We need to talk to Sheriff Mills." He flipped the ID closed so quickly, the beat cop hadn't had much chance to really inspect it.

Sam scrambled out of the car, patting down his pockets in search of his own federal credentials. Crap, they were in his suit. Which made him wonder whether Dean actually had his on hand, or if he'd flashed some other fake ID and was hoping the police officer wouldn't notice.

The guy was staring at them dubiously, and Sam realized they were covered in dirt and looking about as far from professional FBI as possible.

"Listen," Dean continued. "Just keep acting normal here, okay? There's no need to raise alarm on an unconfirmed tip, but if you don't want to be the reason this whole shebang gets blown up, then stop trying to delay us."

The cop sputtered soundlessly, eyes rounding as he cast an uncertain glance over his shoulder.

"You know Sheriff Mills, right?" Sam tried. "She's expecting us."

He nodded nervously.

"Where can we find her in all this?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Uh…I think by the stands…"

"Great, your country thanks you." Dean pushed past the officer and marched onto the track field where white tents were being set up over a stage and podium. Lawn chairs were erected in rows across the center of the field, and streamers flailed from the stands. The crowd was a mixture of uniformed personnel either with law enforcement, maintenance, or a catering company.

Sam jogged up beside his brother. "You practically told that guy there's been a bomb threat. At a _presidential_ Democratic convention. They're gonna have the Secret Service swarming this place."

"Don't really care right now, Sammy." Dean veered left, and Sam had no choice but to follow.

They spotted Jody talking to some deputies near the spectator stands. She blinked in surprise when she saw them, but dismissed her men before coming to meet them.

"What are you boys doing here?" She raised her brows at their filthy appearance. "Please tell me you didn't take Claire mud wrestling."

"We've been calling," Dean said, the tension evident in his voice.

Jody frowned and checked her pocket. "Oh, must've forgotten to take it off silent after the first briefing." She whipped her head back up. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Sam's stomach clenched with a feeling similar to that of having thrown a baseball through the neighbor's window and having to fess up about it. "We were looking around the woods with Claire and found an old mine. It collapsed."

Jody's eyes widened. "What? Where's Claire?"

"She's trapped inside," Dean said. "But don't worry, she's not hurt, and Cas is with her. But we need help digging them out."

Jody started shaking her head as if in denial. "You've got to be kidding me. And you're _sure_ she's not hurt?"

"Cas said they were both fine," Sam assured her.

She made an aggravated noise in the back of her throat, and unclipped her handheld radio. "This is Sheriff Mills. Someone get me the fire chief." She then skewered Dean with a glare. "Is this what you meant when you said you'd help her settle down?"

Dean ducked his gaze guiltily.

Jody swept her eyes over the field and sighed. "Dammit, everyone's rolled out to this convention. It's gonna take at least an hour to mobilize fire and rescue."

"Jody, they're fine, they'll still be there," Sam said, trying to sound confident despite the worry niggling in the back of his mind.

Jody took a deep breath. "Alright. You boys wait here while I round up the troops."

"Actually, uh…" Sam hesitated. "I want to stop by your place real quick and check something. We can meet you at the campgrounds and show you the way in?"

Jody gave him a questioning look, but then her radio crackled with the fire chief responding. "Okay, sure. Alex should be home by now. Tell her what's going on and that I don't know when I'll be back." She lifted the radio to her cheek and hit the talk button, turning away to mobilize search and rescue.

Sam pivoted and started heading off the field.

"What do you need at Jody's house?" Dean asked.

"Claire said she did her homework," he replied. "And I want to know what she found on that legend."

"Thought you didn't believe she had a case."

"Yeah, well, I really hope I'm right about that."

Dean didn't respond, but his mouth thinned into a grim line of agreement.

"Agents," the uniformed officer at the gate greeted nervously when they reached the street. "Is everything—"

"False alarm," Dean cut him off, winding around the Impala's front to the driver's side. "You all can carry on."

Sam flashed the guy a hurried smile as he scrambled in after his brother. Dean started up the Impala and pulled away from the curb sharply. They arrived at Jody's house fifteen minutes later.

It took three rounds of knocking before Alex finally answered, one earbud dangling over her shoulder, the other still stuck in her ear. She arched an unimpressed brow at them. "Don't tell me Claire lost her key." Peering between them, she frowned. "Or you lost Claire."

"There's, uh, been an accident," Sam said.

Alex's expression turned guarded. "Like one of the random people Claire's been attacking fought back, kind of accident?"

Dean pushed his way inside. "A cave-in. Jody's trying to round up search and rescue, but it's gonna take a while with that stupid convention in town."

"Oh." Alex stepped back. "Um, is Claire okay?"

"She and Cas are unhurt, but trapped," Sam explained. "Uh, I need to take a look in Claire's bedroom."

Alex furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"Just checking on something," he replied. "Just in case."

Though she still looked doubtful, Alex gestured for Sam and Dean to head upstairs. She followed.

"Door on the left," Alex said.

Sam felt weird intruding on Claire's room without her permission, but it was necessary. He briefly noted the lack of personalization on the walls and furniture. Looked like he and Claire shared the same tastes in decoration. Which, when he'd have more time to think about, might not have been a positive thing.

He went to her desk, which was covered in loose papers and books. Only the lore books were the ones cracked open; the textbooks for college were stacked neatly and untouched on the corner.

Dean kept checking the time on his phone. "Come on, man, I want to get back there in case Jody was able to get them moving faster."

"Just give me a sec." Sam sorted through the printouts from websites on vampires and werewolves until he spotted something he'd never heard of before. A mishipeshu, or underwater panther. According to Native American mythology, this creature was often malevolent and killed humans. Sam rifled through a few more pages until he found a historical piece on Sioux Falls…and a legend about a Native American myth dwelling in a cave near the area.

Sam's stomach tightened. They'd hunted on less…

He scooped the papers together and into his arms. "Okay, let's go."

"What'd you find?" Dean demanded.

"A legend attached to that mine," he replied, meeting his brother's gaze grimly.

Alex was still standing in the hall, arms crossed over her chest. "Are you saying there is actually a monster out there?"

Sam shook his head. "We're not sure yet." He and Dean started down the stairs.

"Maybe I should go with you," Alex called out behind them.

Dean paused at the front door. "No, you just stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can dig them out." He swept outside, Sam on his heels.

"But…" Alex surged forward and gripped the doorjamb.

Sam met her worried gaze, and tried to give a reassuring nod. It didn't really come across. As he climbed into the Impala and looked at Claire's research in his lap, Sam was suddenly not half as confident as he'd been that morning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some Cas and Claire bonding. ^_^

Claire held her breath as she watched the yellow eyes bob in the darkness. By how far off the ground they hovered, she guessed whatever it was stood at least five feet tall. The glowing orbs dipped low and swished to the side in a sinuous movement. Claire gripped her angel sword and scrambled to her feet. She'd seen drawings of the underwater panther rumored to dwell in this mine, though none of the renditions really agreed with each other. Most likely only its victims knew what it actually looked like.

Castiel drew his angel blade from his coat. "Get back."

Claire instinctively obeyed, only because from what she'd read about the mishipeshu, it sounded kind of scary. Not that she was afraid. She'd seen her share of monsters…though perhaps none quite this big. No, she'd fight it, but this was why she'd called for backup in the first place.

The eyes drifted closer, and an onyx paw stepped into the halo of light. A sleek, feline body followed, though instead of fur, its hide was covered in scales. Claire's breath caught in her throat when the head emerged, an angular, panther face attached to a serpentine neck. Copper horns protruded from its temples, and when its tail flicked around its exposed legs, Claire spotted spikes lined up and down it.

"Told you there was a monster," she hissed.

The mishipeshu opened its mouth, baring its fangs, and a rattling chitter sounded from deep in its throat. It hunkered down on its haunches, muscles rippling in preparation to leap.

Claire raised her Grigori sword, but before she could react, Castiel shoved her backward, hard. She hit the ground with enough force that she almost lost her grip on her weapon. The giant cat let out a charging shriek, and Claire frantically clambered to her feet again in time to see Castiel sweeping forward to meet the panther. The angel slashed his blade, but the mishipeshu jerked its elongated neck up and out of reach. It struck back like a cobra, jaws snapping.

Castiel threw his blade up and managed to catch the beast's fangs on his blade. Slobber and blood dribbled down his sleeve as the creature cut its gums. The panther half turned its body.

"Watch out!" Claire shouted.

The spiked tail came whipping around, but Castiel ducked and dropped to the ground. Snarling, the cat slashed out with its claws, raking them across the angel's leg. Castiel cried out, and tried to roll away. He swiped his blade, managing to score a wound across the panther's paw. It howled in response.

Claire's palms were sweaty and her heart was racing, but she gripped the hilt of her sword in both hands and charged the beast. The tip of her blade arced across its shoulder. It gnashed its teeth at her in return, and she tripped trying to avoid them.

A high-pitched chitter vibrated through its entire body as the cat hunkered down to leap on her. Claire scrambled to get her sword up in defense, but just as the cat launched from the ground, Castiel tackled it mid-air, and angel and panther went rolling across the ground in a flurry of black and tan. Ivory teeth and silver steel flashed like lightning. Blood sprayed the air.

The mishipeshu sank its fangs into Castiel's shoulder. He screamed in pain, even as he plunged his angel blade into the beast's neck. It released him with a vicious snarl, and lashed out with claws instead.

Claire let out a cry of fury as she surged forward and drove her sword into the creature's flank. It threw its head back and roared in outrage. Claire twisted the blade as she yanked it out, and then darted out of reach of its claws. The panther backed away from Castiel, body heaving from exertion as it hissed furiously at her, tail flicking back and forth with promised menace.

She swallowed hard, fingers cramping around her sword's grip.

Castiel staggered to his feet, catching himself on the rock wall. He lifted his chin, and his eyes blazed with celestial light that illuminated the cave in a wash of blue. The mishipeshu lowered its head and growled deep in its throat. After several moments of intense stare-down, it spun around and fled back down the tunnel.

The light in Castiel's eyes dimmed to normal, and he turned toward Claire. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. That had been…intense. Maybe everyone was right; maybe she wasn't ready to go off and hunt on her own.

Castiel returned the nod in apparent relief, and then promptly crumpled to his knees.

"Castiel!" Claire ran forward as the angel pitched sideways, and caught his head before it could hit the ground. "Castiel?"

He'd gone completely limp, and as Claire tried to shift him so he was lying on his back, her hands slicked across damp material. Her fingers came away painted in crimson. What the…

"Castiel," she prodded firmly. "Come on, wake up."

Blood oozed from four puncture wounds in his shoulder, and his leg was bleeding pretty heavily too, along with half a dozen smaller scratches all over the rest of his body.

Claire's pulse ratcheted up. She didn't know much about angels, and her brief time as Castiel's vessel was a far distant memory hardly accessible, but she was pretty sure they were supposed to be impervious to wounds. But then, they also weren't supposed to suffer from panic attacks.

She glanced around frantically, wondering how far away Sam and Dean were with their rescue, whether the mishipeshu was going to come back.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" she yelled at the impenetrable pile of rocks.

No one answered.

Claire could feel panic rising within her, driving her with the irrational urge to leap up and bang her fists against the boulders. She clenched both her jaw and fists. "Get a grip," she chastised under her breath.

She looked back at Castiel, and shrugged out of her flannel shirt. With adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she wasn't cold in just the white tank top underneath, though that would likely change. For now, though, she wrapped her shirt as best she could around Castiel's shoulder, and tied it tightly. Next she took her sword to the slits in his pant leg, widening them to get a better look at the claw marks that sundered flesh from thigh to knee. Her gorge almost rose, and she had to look away for a moment.

There wasn't much that could be used for bandages, and she forced herself to turn back and set her sword against a seam in the trench coat. "Sorry about this," she muttered, and ripped a section off, which she used to wrap around Castiel's leg. She removed his tie next to use as a binding cord to keep the makeshift compress in place. But there were just too many other wounds for her to do a complete triage on. She could only hope that Castiel's angelic powers would kick in with some miraculous healing or something.

Claire scooted around Castiel's head, putting her back to the wall where she could watch the tunnel, and held the Grigori sword in both hands. Blood and torn scales glittered all over the cave floor. Claire didn't know whether to be terrified that the creature could return, or grateful that she didn't have to share space with its corpse.

She suddenly wished, for a brief moment, that she was sitting in a lecture hall today instead of here. The fact that she had been right about there being a monster did little to comfort her now. Castiel had been hurt, something she hadn't considered possible, and it was her fault.

Claire drew her knees up to her chest. "Castiel, I'm, uh, praying to you." Her gaze fell to his pale face, voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't leave me here."

* * *

Thanks to her cell phone, Claire knew exactly how much time was passing while she could do nothing but sit and wait. The afternoon was waning at a snail's pace that felt much longer than what it truly was. Where the hell were Sam, Dean, and Jody?

The mishipeshu had yet to return, but that only made Claire more nervous. Every little chink of rock silt that slipped loose from the unstable ceiling sent her heart rate into overdrive. She'd also begun to shiver in just her jeans and tank top, and her knuckles had long since gone white holding the sword.

A small moan escaped from Castiel, and Claire bolted upright. The angel's eyelids fluttered open, blinking rapidly as he seemed to be trying to focus.

"Castiel?" Claire called worriedly.

He turned his head to find her. "Claire, are you alright?" He tried to sit up, but dropped back to the ground with a groan.

"I'm fine. You're the one who got mauled," she chided.

"The creature," he gasped in alarm, and tried to sit up again. "Where is it?"

Claire finally forced her fingers to unlock from the sword, and reached for the angel's uninjured shoulder to push him back down. It hardly required any effort.

"Ran off and hasn't been back. We gave it a few good hits."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut against what appeared to be a wave of pain. "Help me up, I need to…stand guard."

"I have that covered," she said, mildly indignant. "And you can't even sit up on your own."

Castiel's brow scrunched up in yet more pain. "The bite…" He reached a shaky hand up toward his shoulder, but dropped it across his chest before he could touch it. "I can feel poison in the wound. It's inhibiting my normal healing."

Claire bit the inside of her lip. "Anything I can do?"

He sighed. "No. It needs to work its way out of my system." He shifted as though in discomfort, and grunted.

"Stop moving if it hurts."

His eyes fluttered open to latch onto hers. "I have to look after you."

Claire couldn't help but snort. "Looks like it's the other way around at the moment."

"Any sign of…" Castiel let out a wheeze. "Sam and Dean?"

She swallowed. "No."

They needed to get back here soon. She couldn't do this, couldn't protect a wounded— _not dying_ —angel from a monster twice her size. Why had she thought she could do this hunting thing? She'd been afraid of screwing up normal life, but the truth was she was a screw-up all around.

"Claire," Castiel said softly, sympathetically. "Don't blame yourself."

She stiffened defensively. "I didn't say anything."

"I can sense longing, remember?"

"I think you're delirious from blood loss."

Castiel heaved a sigh, and then winced. "I'm the one who failed you. I should have been strong enough to kill that creature, strong enough to protect you, to get you out of here in the first place…" His voice dropped an octave. "Strong enough to save your mother. But I couldn't do any of those things."

Claire was silent for a long moment. She'd known since the day Castiel had found her in that detention center that he wasn't the same angel that had taken her father away. Now, though, several months later, he seemed even more changed. Like a beaten and broken soldier home from a war, but still lost.

"You…you tried." Claire didn't blame Castiel for her mom's death. The angel had tried to save her. And maybe it was for the best anyway. Amelia Novak had left her daughter to go find her husband, and she'd gotten what she wanted—they were now both in Heaven, together.

Castiel let out a bitter laugh. "I'm always trying. And it never turns out the way I mean it to."

Claire could understand that. Just look at them here. It was weird, having so much in common with the being that looked like her dad, yet wasn't. Claire didn't even remember whether she took after her real father much.

"Sounds like we're a couple of hopeless cases," she muttered.

Castiel snapped his gaze to her, and finally managed to push himself up onto his elbows. "Don't ever think that about yourself, Claire. You're _not_ a lost cause." He grunted and started listing sideways, so she grabbed his non-bandaged shoulder and helped heft him upright to lean against the rock wall. Castiel was practically panting for breath, but he skewered her with a rather paternal glare.

"You have your whole life ahead of you. I'm sorry I ruined your childhood. I can never take that back, no matter how much I wish I could. But you're strong, Claire. Look at how much you've been through, how much you've overcome." His gaze softened in understanding. "This normal life you're resistant to, it can be scary. I was human for a brief time, and it was terrifying to suddenly find myself on my own and having no idea how to function like any other person." Castiel's throat bobbed, and something dark shrouded his eyes for a moment. "But I adapted, I learned. I know you can do the same here, with Jody and Alex, with going to school."

He sagged back against the rocks, that little speech having apparently taken what little energy he had mustered.

Claire pressed her mouth into a tight line. At first she resented the implication that she was scared of 'normalcy,' but maybe Castiel wasn't that far from the mark. Was it that she was afraid of failing? …Or afraid that she could reclaim a semblance of a life she'd lost, that forces beyond that of mortals had stolen from her?

She finally canted a half wry look at Castiel. "Well, maybe not with Alex."

He smiled gently. "I don't know about that. You two seem to fight like sisters."

Claire scoffed, but didn't argue. They lapsed into silence for a short bit, where the only sound was Castiel's somewhat labored breathing. Claire snuck a surreptitious glance at him, and noticed the shallower cuts on his torso and arms seemed to be disappearing. She couldn't tell under the makeshift bandages about the more serious wounds.

Claire cleared her throat and tentatively asked, "Do Sam and Dean know about…you know?"

Castiel angled a confused look at her, and then ducked his gaze as he seemed to understand her meaning. "Yes." He almost sounded ashamed. "Dean guessed, recently."

"And what'd he say?"

A muscle in the angel's jaw ticked. "That binge watching Netflix wouldn't work for long-term. I imagine he's right."

Claire shrugged. "Probably."

Castiel tilted his head back against the wall. "I'm not sure what I'll do when it stops working. I could still hurt people when I…lose my grip on reality. The bunker has a dungeon."

Claire's brows shot upward. "Sam and Dean are not going to lock you up and throw away the key."

"They will if it's their only option."

She shook her head. That would not happen, not if she had anything to say about it. Besides, she knew Sam and Dean weren't like that.

"I'll make you a deal," she said.

Castiel quirked a perplexed look her way.

"I'll work harder at this 'normal life' thing. And you work at dealing with this PTSD thing."

"PTSD…?"

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," she explained. "Which is what it sounds like you have." She couldn't believe she was diagnosing an angel, of all things. But it explained some stuff, like that panic attack he'd had not too long ago.

Castiel's mouth turned down. "That's a human condition."

"You said you spent some time as a human." And wasn't _that_ an interesting story she'd love to revisit later. But given there seemed to be some negative baggage attached to it, now didn't seem like the time.

Castiel's frown deepened in intense contemplation.

"So?" Claire prompted after several moments. "Deal?"

He lifted a hesitant gaze to hers, and Claire had never seen the angel look so lost and anguished. It tugged at something deep inside her, though she'd never admit it out loud. But she decided she was going to look out for Castiel, and make sure the Winchesters would too.

He took a steadying breath, and gave her a very serious nod. "Deal."


	6. Chapter 6

 

Castiel tested his shoulder with a roll, and grimaced when a spike of fiery pain shot through him. The bite wounds were still raw and burned with remnants of the creature's venom, inhibiting any healing in that area. At least the myriad of scratches over the rest of his body had mostly mended, and the deep gashes in his leg were slowly knitting back together as well, also slightly hampered by the poison. Things could have been worse, though.

Castiel was grateful he had yet to have another episode— _panic_ attack—that would endanger Claire even more than she already was. The term 'PTSD,' however, sat sourly on his tongue, yet another piece of evidence that he had fallen oh so far from grace. He had no idea how he was supposed to find his way back after everything…but he had promised Claire he would try. If only to encourage her in her own struggle to reclaim her life.

He stiffened as shuffling and low growls echoed from down the tunnel, too far to reach a human's ears, but Castiel heard the beast lumbering around just fine. It was nursing its wounds, but would return to attack them again soon. Whatever was keeping Dean and Sam, Castiel couldn't wait for them any longer; he needed to get Claire out of here.

Pushing himself up with a grunt, Castiel braced himself against the tunnel wall and turned to inspect the barrier.

Claire perked up. "What is it? Do you hear someone coming?"

He hesitated, knowing he either had to answer that question truthfully or lie. "Yes," he admitted. "But not who we want."

Claire's eyes widened with a flash of fear, and she flicked her gaze down the tunnel. Scampering to her feet, she snatched up her angel sword and held it at the ready. Castiel had no intention of letting her get into another life threatening battle.

"If you stand a safe distance away, I can try moving the boulders." His wounded shoulder would make it difficult, but not impossible. And he had to try, no matter what.

Claire frowned. "But Sam said that could cause another collapse."

"Which is why you need to stand over there." He pointed to the corner where he judged to be out of the way should things topple like dominoes.

Claire gave him a dubious look. "Hello! What if it collapses on _you_?"

"It won't kill me." Castiel hesitated. "Most likely." He wasn't keen on the thought that he would then be vulnerable to the panther and likely its next meal before the Winchesters could return. But as long as Claire escaped, that was all that mattered.

Claire crossed her arms. "No way."

Castiel shook his head in exasperation; he could hear the giant cat scuffing around, slowly drawing closer. "The creature will return soon. Please stand over there and let me try to get you free."

"No." She narrowed her eyes at him. "What if it collapses on you, but doesn't create an opening I can get through? Then you'd be half-dead and it'd just be me and the mishipeshu. Did you think about that?"

Castiel frowned. No, he hadn't. Gritting his teeth, he glanced back at the rock pile, and then toward the darkened shaft. There was only one choice, then.

He pulled out his angel blade, still stained with the beast's dried blood from earlier. "Stay here."

Claire moved into his path the moment he took a step forward. "Wait a second, you're gonna go looking for that thing? In your shape?" She scoffed. "Now who's reckless?"

"I need to kill it before it comes back," he explained impatiently. "And especially before Sam and Dean return with rescue workers, or their lives will be endangered as well."

Claire lifted the Grigori sword. "Okay, so we'll go together."

Castiel shook his head adamantly. "It's too dangerous."

"I didn't do so bad the first round," she countered. "And now it's wounded, weaker."

"No, it's wounded and therefore liable to be more vicious." He briefly closed his eyes, trying to muster patience. Why couldn't she just listen?

"Claire," he tried again, attempting to summon his old, angel-of-the-lord tone. "Stay here."

She scowled as he brushed past her. "Just…" she started to call after him. "Don't get killed!"

Castiel gritted his teeth against the pain in his leg, and put every ounce of effort into not walking with a limp. _I'll try,_ he promised her silently.

He lifted his wounded shoulder again, testing its limits. There wasn't much strength in it, and any strenuous movement would likely tear the muscle again. Castiel switched his angel blade to his other hand. It wasn't his preferred fighting arm, but he'd manage.

The beast's chuffing sounds grew louder as Castiel ventured into the dark, acute angelic sight guiding his way. Up ahead, amber orbs suddenly flashed, and a warning chitter followed. Castiel tightened his grip on his blade.

The panther's tail swished menacingly, and it gnashed its teeth. Castiel raised his empty palm, wincing when it tugged his wounded shoulder, and called upon his grace. Golden light spilled from his hand, ethereal energy igniting the air with an electric charge. The cat growled.

Castiel focused his power into smiting the beast. Light exploded, briefly washing out the hue of the creature's shiny scales as it reeled back with a yowl of pain. But Castiel couldn't maintain the focused energy, and the light winked out a second later, leaving him panting for breath.

The mishipeshu paced in circles, likely momentarily blinded by the futile effort. Castiel took that instant to lunge forward with his blade. His balance was off, and his strike ended up grazing the shoulder rather than plunging into it. The great cat reared up on its hind legs, and swiped a paw at the angel. He ducked and spun around to deliver a blow to the creature's rear.

The tail collided with his chest, and it was pure luck that it hit just above where the spikes were located. The impact knocked him back several feet, though, and Castiel barely recovered before the panther was pouncing on him.

He tried to spin away, but his still injured leg twisted the wrong direction and gave out. The cat sailed over him, scoring fresh gashes down his back as it went. Castiel bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out. He had to keep moving… Struggling to his feet, he staggered away in order to regroup. He just didn't have the advantage here.

As if that would have stopped the Winchesters.

Steeling his resolve, Castiel summoned his power again, but instead of expecting it to smite the cat, he simply gathered enough blazing light to briefly blind it again. The panther yowled and backed up, wrenching its head away and tucking it under a paw. Castiel kept the energy pouring out as much as he could, and charged. This time he managed to stab the cat in the neck again, but not fatally. And it swiped its large paw at him in turn, catching him in the chest and propelling him into the wall. He landed with a grunt, but refused to succumb to the exhaustion that was trying to pull him under.

The light in the tunnel dimmed considerably, only the halo of blue from his eyes seeping through now. The mishipeshu gave itself a rough shake, recovering quickly.

Then, in the faint illumination, Castiel caught a shadow detaching from the surrounding darkness. His heart dropped into his stomach as Claire appeared, Grigori sword in hand. Yet before he could shout at her to stop, she leaped forward and plunged that sword into the panther's back, driving it to the ground. It threw its head back with an ear-splitting shriek.

Claire somehow got thrown off, but the blade remained, and the monster writhed on the cave floor, snapping its jaws around trying to bite the hilt.

Castiel stumbled to his feet and threw himself at the beast. His blade sank into the creature's neck, and he ripped it out just as quickly, aiming for the head next. His aim struck true, stabbing the cat through the skull and down to the ground where the tip of his blade chinked on the rock. The mishipeshu gave a few violent judders before wheezing out its last breath.

Chest heaving and back screaming in pain, Castiel staggered away from the carcass. He felt his energy quickly draining, and with it the light from his eyes that had illuminated the tunnel.

"Um, Castiel?" Claire called nervously. She was now in pitch-black.

He wanted nothing more than to collapse right there and not move for a decade, but Claire needed him. So he mustered the wherewithal to stumble toward the sound of her voice. He paused at the dead panther and wrenched their blades free, as he, at least, could still see well enough.

Claire was standing frozen, arms out as though searching the darkness for something to grasp onto.

"Claire," Castiel said quietly, trying not to startle her. He shifted so his arm brushed her fingers, and she latched onto it. Then he started leading her back toward the entrance. "I told you to stay," he reprimanded.

"Yeah, well, you're not my dad."

He caught a glimpse of her face softening, as though she'd truly been worried about him, something he was certain she thought he couldn't see in the dark.

"And as far as guardian angels go," she added. "You practically need one yourself."

Castiel smiled ruefully, though she definitely couldn't see it. "You did good back there," he said, and watched her eyes widen in surprise, and then a small smile arc across her face.

"We don't make a bad team," she said nonchalantly.

That was…a nice thought, actually.

As they approached the waning light from the outside, Castiel heard several noises filtering through.

"Claire!" Jody was shouting. "Claire, answer me!"

"We're here!" Claire yelled back.

"Oh thank god. We're getting ready to dig you out, okay? Stay back from the rocks. Oh, and we are having a serious discussion about this later, young lady!"

Claire cast an exasperated look at Castiel. "Normal life, huh?"

He canted his head thoughtfully. "No one said it didn't come with its own challenges."

Claire shrugged, but her mouth quirked anyway. "Well, after this, college might be a nice break."

Castiel just wanted to return to his Netflix queue. Unfortunately, though, he suspected he had another battle still on the horizon.

* * *

Dean would have jumped in with search and rescue to help dig Cas and Claire out if they'd let him. But since they were using equipment and safety procedures to make sure the whole tunnel didn't come crashing down, he wasn't allowed inside the mine entrance at all, and was forced to wait outside anxiously while rescue personnel carefully and gradually dislodged the rocks.

An hour ticked by, in which the sun started to set and heavy duty spotlights had to be brought in and set up so the firemen could see what they were doing. Dean was practically going crazy not being able to do anything, but at least he'd heard Cas's and Claire's voices before the digging started, so he knew they were still okay, if only sounding a little tired. It'd been a long day for all of them.

At long last, there was a shout of a breakthrough, and a few moments later, Cas and Claire were escorted out of the mine by two firemen. Gray blankets were immediately thrown over both of them, but not before Dean noticed that Claire was no longer wearing her flannel button down, but that it was wrapped around Cas's shoulder. His stomach tightened, and he, Sam, and Jody converged on the pair.

Jody stopped short of nearly throwing her arms around Claire, and instead gave the girl a sharp once-over. "You okay?"

Claire nodded.

"Can we get paramedics over here!" one of the firemen shouted.

"Cas?" Dean asked in a low voice. If the angel was hurt, they'd get him medical attention, but if his angelic healing would take care of it, better to avoid questions later.

"I would prefer to leave," Cas replied. His eyes darted around the large group of people warily.

"Yeah, okay." Dean gave Jody a meaningful look, and then a nod of gratitude to the fireman.

"I'll make sure they get checked out," Jody assured the rescuers. Then she and the Winchesters tucked Cas and Claire between them and began the long hike out of the woods.

It was getting too dark for Dean to get a good look at Cas's shoulder, but he'd definitely seen blood, not to mention the angel's clothes had several tears in them. "You said you weren't hurt," he accused.

"I wasn't," Cas said. "In the cave-in."

"Then what—"

"I was right about the monster," Claire broke in, sounding only half smug. She stepped closer to Cas as though to offer a supportive shoulder should he need it.

Jody halted abruptly. "What?"

"It's dead now," Cas informed them. "And far enough back in the mine the rescue workers shouldn't find it. Still, we should return tomorrow to dispose of the body."

Dean ran a hand over his hair. Shit, he should have taken Claire more seriously.

"Was it the underwater panther?" Sam asked.

Claire's brow furrowed. "How'd you know?"

"I checked your research."

Claire stared at him for a moment, and then crossed her arms. "You went through my room."

Sam blinked. "Uh…yeah."

"Don't worry, we didn't find your stash of tweed," Dean interjected.

Jody shot him a sharp look. "Seriously?"

"Hey!" Claire glowered at him, then turned to Jody with the same frantic expression Alex had when she'd been outed on the cabin thing. "I don't—"

Jody held up a hand. "Okay, okay. I actually don't want to know right now." She ushered them to keep moving, and they lapsed into silence for several long moments. Finally, Jody cleared her throat. "Guess I owe you an apology."

Claire glanced at Cas, then at Dean, and back to Jody. "Well, I haven't exactly been handling things well."

Jody looked stunned for a split second before she managed to recover, and she put an arm around the girl's shoulders. "We'll work on it."

They eventually made it back to the campgrounds where a ring of reporters were waiting by several news vans.

"I've officially made tomorrow's headline instead of the Democratic convention," Jody muttered.

"Saving a girl's life makes a better story anyway," Dean said, and steered Cas toward the Impala, which was thankfully parked on the other side of the lot. They needed to avoid those cameras.

"Take Claire," Jody instructed, and then sighed. "I'll distract the vultures."

Dean nodded. He and Sam climbed into the Impala with Cas and Claire in the backseat. Claire shivered, and Cas put his arm around her, pulling her close. Dean cranked up the heater, and turned onto the road to head back to Jody's. Thankfully, there wasn't a lot of traffic from that convention, either because everyone had called it quits early, or were still waiting to maybe salvage some part of the event. Dean didn't care. As long as law enforcement was paying attention elsewhere, he didn't even bother obeying the speed limits.

Alex opened the front door of the house before the Impala had come to a complete stop in the driveway, yet she remained on the threshold as their weary party got out and approached.

She looked Claire up and down and asked guardedly, "You okay?"

Claire stopped, body language equally tense. But instead of a snarky comment like Dean had been expecting, she simply nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." Alex stepped back, and they all filed inside.

Cas's footsteps were heavier and more sluggish than normal, so Dean directed him straight to the sofa, which was when he noticed the slash marks down the back of the trench coat. He grabbed the angel's sleeve to stop him short, and pulled apart the torn cloth to get a look underneath. He nearly sagged in relief.

"Looks like you healed up," he said.

"Yes," Cas replied. "I'm fine, Dean. Just tired."

"What about the poison?" Claire said, sending alarm spiking through Dean again.

"What poison?" he demanded.

Cas sighed. "The creature bit me. That wound is healing slower, but it _will_ heal."

"Let me see." Dean gently pushed Cas down onto the sofa and took a seat next to him. He unwrapped Claire's bloody shirt from Cas's shoulder, and sucked in a breath at the puncture wounds, two on the front, two on the back. They were swollen and bruised, purple around the edges, but not very big.

Sam leaned over to take a look, and then turned to Alex. "You got any first aid supplies?"

She nodded, looking a little green at the sight of the wounds. "Sure, I'll show you."

She and Sam left the living room, and Dean began carefully peeling Cas's layers off. Some of the dried blood made the fabric stick to his skin, and Cas hissed when it came loose. Claire looked on worriedly.

"You sure you'll be okay?" she asked.

Cas gave her a small smile. "I'm sure."

Dean lightly poked the area around the punctures. "We'll flush these out, help that healing along. Alright?" Though he wasn't really asking for Cas's agreement. "Claire, can you get a large bowl of water and some towels?"

She nodded and hurried off to do that.

Dean lowered his voice. "How are you really doing?"

Cas furrowed his brow. "Like I said, I'm tired. The battle…took a lot out of me."

"And the other thing?" Dean gingerly prompted. He'd been worried about Cas being trapped in a cold, dark cave all day, given the circumstances.

Cas's mouth turned down, his gaze drifting inward for a moment. "Claire thinks I have PTSD," he said abruptly.

Dean stiffened in surprise. Well, that saved him from having to be the one to bring up the subject with Cas, but if Claire had noticed enough to mention it, something must have happened in that cave after all.

"She…might be right," he said carefully.

Cas gave a solemn nod. "I don't know what to do about it."

In truth, Dean didn't either. He closed his hand around Cas's forearm. "We'll figure it out. Together."

Cas closed his eyes and bowed his head, but a moment later lifted it in what looked like renewed resolve. "Alright."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a little late getting this chapter up today. Thanks again to everyone who's subscribed, left kudos, and commented, and to those who merely lurked. =) And another shoutout to 29Pieces for beta reading. Check out her S11 AU of Cas angst and feels. (She should be posting the last chapter soon, so if you're not already following "Three Angels Walk Into a Bar," then you don't have to endure the cliffhangers!)

Castiel slept that night, despite his intentions not to do so. After Dean had cleaned and dressed the wounds to his shoulder properly, the hunter had insisted Castiel at least lie down on the couch for a bit. Castiel agreed, if only because he was exhausted, but protested that he wasn't going to take one of the two sofas that were for the Winchesters to sleep on. Dean's assenting nod had apparently only been to humor him, however, and he was asleep before Jody even returned.

He woke to a nearly empty house, having been completely oblivious to the comings and goings of the morning, a rather unnerving thought. Claire was sitting on the couch perpendicular to him, holding a glass of orange juice. Castiel pushed himself up into a sitting position. A glance out the window showed the Impala was gone, and for a split second, Castiel had the gut-wrenching flicker of fear that he'd been left behind.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, proud his tone remained level.

"Jody took Alex to school, then had to go by the station to wrap up some stuff from yesterday. Sam and Dean went to take care of the mishipeshu body." Claire let out an indignant huff. "We weren't invited."

Castiel frowned. Sam and Dean went alone? What if there was another cave-in? He understood not letting Claire go back out there, but Castiel, at least, should have gone with them.

"How's the shoulder?" Claire asked.

He gave it a tentative stretch. "All healed."

She thrust the glass of orange juice at him. "Dean said to make you drink this."

Castiel gave the cup a dubious look. "I really don't need—"

"I told him I would," Claire interrupted. "Are you going to make me break that promise?"

Castiel's jaw tightened a fraction; Claire was getting too good at manipulating him. At least now it seemed to be out of concern for him, and not trying to take advantage. He accepted the glass. Claire arched her brows pointedly until he took a sip. The juice was fresh-squeezed, and actually tasted refreshing, as he still had a little dirt coating the inside of his throat. The tartness also helped wake him up further, and Castiel glanced around for his normal clothes. He felt rather…thin, in the single black t-shirt Dean had loaned him.

He realized there were still gaping tears in his slacks, and fixed them with a spurt of grace. Now that the poison was out of his system, repairing minor things like fabric was easy. It was just…other things, that weren't so simple.

Claire blinked in surprise, and then stood up and went into the adjoining dining room. She returned with Castiel's trench coat, shredded and bloodstained. "Um, you can fix this, right?" She hesitantly offered it to him.

"Yes." He set the glass down on a side table and took the coat, running his fingers over the familiar coarse seams. With a single wave of his hand, it was good as new. Claire looked oddly relieved.

"You need a new tie," she said.

"I can fix that too."

The rumble of the Impala's engine brought Castiel's gaze to the window. He almost chided himself at the sheer relief he felt upon seeing the sleek black car pulling into the driveway; it was unfair to assume the Winchesters would simply up and leave him here.

He frowned, though, when Sam and Dean got out of the car. They seemed to be having an argument. Both of them stood in their open doors, talking over the roof of the Impala. Sam was giving his brother a mixture of exasperated glares. Dean was shaking his head as though he didn't want to hear it. Castiel couldn't hear them from the house, and his stomach inexplicably tightened. At least they didn't appear injured from another mishap in the mine.

"Well," Claire said, peering out the window too. "Better finish that orange juice before Dean comes in." With that, she retreated upstairs.

The Winchesters finally started toward the house, and Castiel picked up the glass from the side table, taking a quick gulp before the brothers reached the door. Whatever topic they'd been discussing ceased once they entered, stirring Castiel's unease.

"Hey, look who's finally awake," Dean greeted brightly. Castiel didn't miss the satisfied glance the hunter cast at the glass of orange juice.

"You should have woken me sooner," Castiel responded. "Claire said you went to take care of the body."

"Yep," Sam stepped in. "And it's done. How are you feeling?"

"I'm recovered," he insisted, and gestured to his mended trench coat. "I was in the process of collecting my clothes."

"I think Jody tried to wash some of the blood out of the shirt," Sam said. "She was wound a little tight last night. I'll ask Claire where it went. Where is she?"

Castiel frowned; he could ask Claire that. "In her room, I think."

Sam nodded, threw his brother a pointed look, and headed toward the stairs.

Castiel swallowed around a lump growing in his throat as he turned to the older Winchester. "Something wrong, Dean?"

"Nah. I need to fill up on gas before we hit the road home. Want to come with? Stretch your legs a bit."

Castiel furrowed his brow. Sitting in the Impala did not constitute stretching one's legs. But he couldn't come up with a reason to say no, and so rose from the couch and slipped his coat on. Dean's mouth quirked at him. Castiel glanced down at himself; he supposed the plain black t-shirt and beige coat looked a little odd paired together.

"Should I wait for Sam to find the rest of my suit?"

Dean waved a dismissive hand. "You're fine. Besides, he's gonna talk to Claire for a bit."

Castiel canted his head. "About what?"

Dean shrugged, and headed back out the door. "College stuff. Out of all of us, he's the best one for that."

Oh, that made sense. Castiel hoped Sam would be able to convince Claire to truly give school a chance. She'd seemed more open to it when they'd talked in the cave, but he knew all too well that wanting to face a challenge head-on wasn't the same thing as actually mustering the courage to do so.

Castiel followed Dean out to the Impala where he slid into the passenger seat. Dean turned the key in the ignition, and the familiar rumble of the engine vibrated through the seats. The gas station wasn't far, and Castiel wondered why they hadn't just waited until they were on their way out of town to fill up.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of a pump and turned off the engine, but didn't get out of the car.

Castiel looked around warily. "Um, Dean?"

The Winchester let out a long breath, and reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, a self-conscious gesture Castiel was quite familiar with, and which made him even more nervous. What had Sam and Dean been arguing about…?

"Okay, so," Dean began. "Uh, I guess I'll start by saying you're not alone with this PTSD thing. Or the…um, flashbacks."

Castiel frowned. "Wh—"

Dean held up a hand. "Let me get this out." He shook his head. "We've all been through a lot of crap over the years. I've been in Hell; Sam's been in Hell. Purgatory was no picnic." Dean's throat bobbed. "I know you've been through your own kinds of hell, too. And…you're not the only one who's hurt people you care about."

Dean finally looked over at Castiel then, eyes awash with grief and barely held back pain. "What I did to you…sometimes I see that too. I see your blood on my hands."

Castiel's throat tightened. "I…know that was the Mark," he said quietly.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. But the fact that I was capable of that, that an outside influence could be so strong that I nearly killed my best friend…that scares me. What if I find myself in the same situation again?" Dean's eyes met Castiel's. "I'm terrified I won't be strong enough to stop it."

Castiel dropped his gaze to his lap where his hands lay. He could almost see blood on them again, and furled his fingers into fists before such a vision could take hold. "Then what do we do?" he asked hoarsely.

Dean shrugged one shoulder. "Sam thinks we need to talk about it more."

"Is that what you were arguing about when you came back?"

A muscle in Dean's cheek ticked, but then he shook it off. "I don't know, I guess my way hasn't exactly been working. Might as well try his."

Castiel fell silent for a moment. "We don't have to talk about it, Dean. It's…not exactly pleasant for me, either."

Dean let out a rueful snort. "I hear ya. But, Cas…" He half turned in his seat to face Castiel, expression oddly kind in its seriousness. "Hiding in Netflix isn't gonna make things better."

Castiel looked away again. He knew that, he did. It was just… _easier_ , to pretend it could. "And…talking about all these horrific things is somehow supposed to make it better?"

Dean chuckled under his breath. "Hell if I know. Sounds like a bunch of bull, right? But Sam's been doing all this research on post-traumatic stress." Dean paused thoughtfully. "I guess the point is to be able to talk about it without reliving it."

Castiel's mouth thinned in contemplation. "I…suppose that sounds like a valid approach." He glanced back at Dean. "Are you sure?"

Dean nodded. "I want to help you get better. And if that means I have to suck it up myself, well, I'll do it. I'm in for the long haul here."

Castiel felt a stitch of tightness in his gut begin to unravel. He gave Dean a decisive nod in return. "Then so am I."

Dean's mouth curved in a small smile, and then he was opening his door and swiftly exiting, saying he'd better fill up before the station attendant started thinking they were idling there to rob the joint.

Castiel settled back against the upholstery. Given all the epic, potentially world-ending challenges he'd faced over the years, he never would have thought the battle within himself would be the most terrifying. His gaze flicked out the window to where Dean was filling the tank. At least he wasn't alone this time.

They drove back to Jody's house, and Sam came downstairs with Castiel's dress shirt and suit jacket. He threw a questioning look at Dean, who subtly nodded in return.

"How did your talk with Claire go?" Castiel asked, hating the feeling of being on the outside with these secret glances, especially when he knew what they were about.

Sam wasn't fazed by the question, and nodded. "Good. She's gonna talk to her professors, see if she can catch up on the work she's missed."

"Good," Dean echoed.

"It's gonna require a lot of hard work," Sam said as a caveat.

Castiel glanced at the stairs, sensing Claire at the top. "I'm sure she's up to it."

* * *

They stayed one more night—so the Winchesters could enjoy another home-cooked meal and have leftovers to take back to the bunker. Castiel didn't sleep again, and he asked to borrow Sam's laptop for the night. But instead of pulling up Netflix, Castiel thought he would look into stuff related to PTSD, just to see what was out there. Sam looked pleased when Castiel hesitantly told him that, and showed him all the bookmarked sites he'd been visiting. Castiel was stunned at how much research the young Winchester had put into this. He seemed as equally determined as Dean to see Castiel through this.

The next morning, after yet another homemade meal of waffles and scrambled eggs, they were finally ready to depart. Castiel stood in the driveway with Claire while Dean and Sam said their goodbyes to Jody up near the front door.

"Will you be alright here?" Castiel asked, glancing over Claire's shoulder to the house.

She shrugged. "I guess. I mean, it's not a bad place. A lot better than anywhere else I've stayed. Alex's even being nice to me lately."

"I'm sure she was worried about you." It seemed everyone was being nicer to each other after that harrowing experience.

"Maybe I should nearly die more often."

Castiel gaped at her. " _Claire_ —"

"Relax, I'm only kidding." She rolled her eyes, but then her expression softened. "What about you? You gonna be okay?"

Castiel lifted his eyes to the Winchesters, who were smiling with Jody, arms full of tupperware. "I think so."

Claire folded her arms together, shifting her weight. "You know…you can text me sometimes. Let me know how things are going."

He tried not to smile too widely. "And I would like to know how your classes go."

Claire looked uncomfortable, but gave a short nod.

Castiel waited a beat. "I'm, uh, glad you called Dean for help. You…know you can always call me too. Right? Whether it's a monster or not."

"Sure." Then Claire stepped forward and put her arms around him. It only took Castiel a split second of surprise before he remembered to hug back. It felt…good, the earnest, heartfelt contact, and Claire pulled away too soon.

"Oh, and try not to have any more near-death calls yourself, alright?" she said.

Castiel's mouth twitched. "I'll do my best." Though, given his track record with the Winchesters, that would be a monumental feat.

Claire took a step back, apparently signaling to Sam and Dean that they could finally approach. They exchanged their own goodbyes with Claire, and then the three of them piled into the Impala. Castiel turned his head to watch Claire and Jody as Dean pulled the car away. The last time he had said this sort of goodbye, Claire had been the one to drive away. Castiel had let her go then because it had seemed best, and turned out it was. She had a good place with Jody and Alex, which made this parting a little easier. He knew she was in good hands.

Castiel glanced up toward Sam and Dean in the front seat. So was he.

* * *

Dean didn't mention things again, but the moment they were back in the bunker, Sam pulled Castiel aside and laid out some rules for the Netflix.

"Just at night," he said. "While Dean and I are sleeping and there's not much to keep you occupied. But during the day, we need to find something else."

Castiel frowned. "Like what? Sam, I'm not sure I'm ready to go back out there and fight…"

Sam shook his head fervently. "No, no, of course not that." He pursed his mouth in deep thought. "There's still some research to go through here on the Darkness. And we should find you a hobby."

"A hobby?"

"Yeah. Like…uh, I don't actually know." Sam shrugged. "We could try out a few things."

"But not anything girly like crochet," Dean called from the next room.

Sam rolled his eyes and lobbed back, "Is baking girly? Because if Cas wanted to bake, you could have fresh pie every week!"

Dean poked his head around the doorjamb and cocked his forefinger at them. "That's actually a good idea. Try that out first." He promptly disappeared again.

Castiel was feeling incredibly lost. "I really don't think I'm cut out for that…"

Sam flashed him a warm smile. "Don't listen to Dean. Hey, what about gardening? I was actually thinking it'd be nice to use some of the space outside for a vegetable garden, grow our own greens."

" _Saaamm_ ," Dean groaned from down the hall.

Sam rolled his eyes yet again, but turned back to Castiel. "Want to help me with that?"

Castiel shifted his weight. That didn't sound too hard, actually. And he did enjoy _being_ in gardens. "Would it have to be only vegetables?" he asked tentatively.

"Not at all. Let's look up what grows well in this area for this season."

Sam pulled out his laptop and they settled down for the next two hours discussing flora options for Sam's garden. Or, well, for _their_ garden, as the younger Winchester kept reminding him. And the more Castiel was occupied, the less need he felt for the distraction of television, though nights were still the hardest. Dean and Sam would take turns staying up late with him, though they'd eventually have to go to bed. Still, it made the dark hours pass more quickly, and Castiel slowly regained control of his physical and mental lapses.

Sometimes Claire would text him late at night when the Winchesters were asleep, and he would chidingly ask what she was doing up at that hour. Her response was always that she was studying, and would even share some random fact from her textbook. That, also, helped Castiel adjust, and he was immensely relieved to hear that Claire was focusing seriously on school.

He told her about the garden project he and Sam were working on, and even sent some pictures of their progress. Claire made a few suggestions of additions to make, which Castiel brought to Sam the next time they spoke.

Of course, there was still the threat of the Darkness lurking in the background, and each day of research continued to turn up nothing. Castiel knew he would have to venture out in search of other avenues eventually.

A week after returning to the bunker, a package came from Sioux Falls, addressed to Castiel. Sam and Dean watched curiously as he opened it, revealing a tie with wide, midnight blue bands bisected with silver stripes. He lifted the note that was resting on top of it.

_"I get that you're attached to the Columbo look, but you can at least change the tie up every once in a while. ~Claire"_

Castiel smiled, and started undoing the tie he was wearing. Once he had the new one on, though, Dean just shook his head and stepped in to straighten it.

"There, now smile." Dean held up his cell phone.

"Uh, why?"

"Because I'm gonna send Claire a picture." Dean gestured impatiently, and Castiel lifted his head, trying to force his mouth to move in one of those posing positions. It didn't feel quite right, though.

Grinning, Dean snapped the picture, and then tapped his phone a few times, presumably sending it to Claire. "I'm gonna have to quiz her, see if she's even watched _Columbo_."

"She already has a midterm to study for next week," Castiel protested.

"Fine, after then."

Castiel's phone pinged in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find a text message from Claire.

_"Looks good."_

He typed out a reply. _"Thank you."_ He added a smiley cat face emoticon. Ever since Sam had shown him those options, he'd been using one in every message. They were much more animated than simple text.

"I'm feeling like burgers tonight," Dean said abruptly. They'd gone through the leftovers from Jody much earlier that week.

Sam let out an exasperated groan. "Fine, but just _not_ the Elvis. I'm serious, dude, I can't eat anything with that sitting across from me."

"I can't believe you're my brother."

"Why don't we let Cas pick tonight," Sam suggested. "But _no_ guilting him!"

Dean put a hand over his heart. "I'm wounded, Sammy."

"Yeah, in the head." Sam turned to Castiel. "So, Cas, what do you feel like eating tonight?"

They'd determined that Castiel didn't _need_ to eat, though he could taste and enjoy food in his current…state.

He glanced between the Winchesters: Dean's puppy-eyed look and Sam's scowl at his brother tempered with a caring look at Castiel. Behind them on the table was the open box from Claire. And Castiel was struck with a realization. He'd spent his entire existence watching over others, but now…he had several people looking out for him too.

"Aren't there places that serve breakfast all the time?" he asked.

Sam looked smug. "Yes there are."

Dean's jaw worked for a moment. "Yeah, I'm down for that."

Relieved, Castiel smiled in return. He set his old tie on the table, and followed the Winchesters—his family—back out into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another happy ending. ^_^ Next up, a mid-S10 Cain/MoC AU that I hope will be rather intriguing for you all. Until Friday, mes amies!


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